Symptoms of Fatigue
by JadeMac2442
Summary: Kirk has been awake for ninety-six hours. He's pushed past his limits and is about to collapse from exhaustion. They saved Earth, they destroyed the Narada. Now they just have to make it home. A friendship fic.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: You guys know the drill. I don't own them. Wish I did. Don't we all.

EDIT. This is a repost. I have achieved a beta! Thank you, 1lostone! Love you, honey.

* * *

_Symptoms of Fatigue

* * *

_

Kirk was tired. Bone weary. The ache went so deep it cut through even the throbbing of his ribs. Not grief, not pain, not the horror of everything that had happened, not even pride cut through the enormity of his exhaustion. God, how long had he been awake? The mild rush of adrenaline that he'd gotten from the coffee someone had brought him was gone now. He was crashing.

His head pounded.

Kirk just wished he were in bed. He wished he _had_ a bed. But with the way that he'd gotten on the ship, he hadn't been assigned one.

Maybe he could sleep in Bones's office.

But no.

The ship needed him. They needed him. He'd seen it in their eyes when he'd gotten back from the _Narada_. The expectation. They needed him to get them through this. And he had. He was pleased it had all worked out. He loved commanding this ship. Too bad it might be the last time he ever commanded anything, what with the mild charge of mutiny that might be facing him. Come to think of it, Spock didn't seem too upset about that, now. Kirk needed to apologize to the Vulcan. Just not right this second. He was too tired for his brain to form the eloquent words needed for the delicate process entailed in making amends for the things he'd said. The things he'd had to say. He hoped Spock would understand.

The old Spock had understood. But then they were sorta different people. Except they weren't. His thoughts were murky. He wished the headache would ease. He wished he could keep his eyes open.

He stood and stretched, deciding to pace. He'd always thought better on his feet. Plus, maybe the movement would keep him from falling asleep.

Kirk wondered about what the other Spock had said. The friendship that was supposed to exist between them. They were supposed to be legendary. Frankly, Kirk didn't see it. They'd worked together …well, pretty well actually on the Romulan ship. Saved Earth. That had to count for something.

Shit, he ached. Maybe he could get someone to bring him coffee. Maybe he could get a couple someones to bring him coffee.

He was nervous about leaving the bridge. McCoy still had Pike in surgery in sickbay. What if some threat popped up while he was sleeping? He just didn't want to leave.

But he could feel lethargy in every muscle. Kirk was tripping over his own feet. When he realized that he was thinking dreamily of sitting on the floor under the viewscreeen, he moved quickly back to his chair. He winced as his abraded back protested at the contact.

He sighed.

He could feel their eyes on him. He managed his most winning smile.

"Steady as she goes, Mr. Sulu. Steady as she goes." Why had he said that? What did it even mean? Now Sulu was gonna look at him weird. Kirk liked Sulu, and didn't want the other man to think he was an idiot. You can't nearly fall to your death with someone without ending up liking the person.

But Sulu only smiled back. "Aye, Captain."

There was that word again. _Captain_. All golden and glowing and everything he'd ever wanted to be. It made him smile, despite the omnipresent fatigue.

He found his thoughts drifting again. What a weird couple days. He was commanding a ship he wasn't even supposed to be on. He could not imagine the look on the face of the officer reading his report.

Kirk hadn't even decided how much of the truth he was going to put in it.

He sighed again. The deep breath increased the pain in his lungs exponentially. His vision flared white. Well that was interesting. Experimentally, he took another, deeper breath. Oh yeah. Definitely broken ribs. When had that happened? He smiled ironically to himself as he thought about it. Could have been quite a few times in the past day. Probably the fight with Spock, or the fight with Nero, he thought. Strange that he hadn't noticed at the time. But then-he'd been occupied. Bones was gonna freaking kill him. Especially since he hadn't gotten them treated already. But he'd had worse. And he didn't want to leave. He didn't really have any where to go.

Kirk noticed that thinking about his pain took his mind off of his exhaustion. He felt a little more focused now. Interesting. He inventoried himself. His hand was broken. Again. Still. He probably shouldn't have taken that bandage off. His left eye socket throbbed. It was fractured _again_. It was either the Zygomatic bone or the Maxilla bone. He couldn't tell them apart anymore. But as much as he got into bar fights, he could usually tell when one of them had splintered. You got hit there when you fought someone who led with their right. It was a given. Kirk had learned to accept it. He'd been hit there so many times, that he sometimes wondered if there would come a day when even 23rd century medicine wouldn't be able to put it right. He thought that just about covered the fractures. His back was covered in shallow scrapes and abrasions from the fall down the ice cliff. Stupid ice monster. And thinking of the stupid thing, his angle twinged from where the damn thing's tongue had lashed around it and pulled him down.

He didn't miss the looks that some of the bridge crew was giving him, though. Admiration, bordering on awe. Mixed with concern. None of them had anticipated his offer of help to the Romulans. He had meant it though, sincerely. He would not see life wasted when it didn't have to be. But why the concern? They couldn't be worried about him, could they?

When was Bones gonna be out of surgery? He probably ought to let his friend check him out. And then he could crash on the couch.

He rested his chin against his hand. That ached too. So tired. So very tired.

He did not even feel his eyes slip closed.

* * *

"Captain. Captain." Someone was shaking him. Gently.

He started up. He was even more tired now then he had been when he'd sat down. His head swam. He shook himself further awake. Dammit, the Vulcan had caught him sleeping. He ought to put himself on report.

"Mr. Spock. My apologies. What were you saying?" He rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"Captain, by my estimation, you have been awake for a minimum of 96 hours. You require rest." Ninety-six hours. Nearly four days. Had it been that long since he'd slept? When had that damn hearing been? It felt like a lifetime ago.

Jim opened to his mouth to say, "I'm fine, Mr. Spock," but that was not what came out.

"Yeah, um maybe I should go," he heard himself say. Kirk wondered _where_ he would go. At this point, anywhere off the bridge would do. He took a step and stumbled, his sleep-heavy legs unsteady. Spock caught him by the ribs and set him on his feet. The sudden contact to his injured side stole Kirk's breath, and he reeled, close to passing out.

"I will accompany you." Spock had not yet released his arm.

Kirk did not have the energy to argue. He nodded wearily. He could barely keep his eyes on open. He was swaying on his feet. He needed to get out of here before he really embarrassed himself. "Sulu, take the conn."

"Aye, sir."

Spock manhandled Kirk out of the room in way that him half pulling, half dragging the exhausted human off the bridge. Once in the turbolift, Spock set Kirk gently against the wall. "Sickbay," he said, turning the control.

"Huh? No." Kirk had been nearly dozing against the wall, but he had snapped awake at the sound of Spock's command. "No, I'm fine, Spock, I just wanna sleep."

"You are not fine. You are obviously in pain, and excessively fatigued. From your respiration rate and your obvious discomfort, I surmise that you have severe bruising, and possible multiple fractures, for which you have, in all likelihood, not sought treatment. You require the attentions of a physician to remedy this. It is possible that you did get seek treatment before this moment because the ship was in danger, but that is not the case now." He looked at Kirk with his expressionless face, and for a moment the cool mask faltered and Kirk could see the concern in those fathomless eyes. And then it was gone.

Kirk gave up. He just didn't have the energy to fight anymore. He leaned against the wall of the lift and rested his burning eyes. All too soon, the lift arrived at deck six. Spock once again took his arm. Kirk chaffed at the assistance.

"I'm fine, Spock. I can walk," he said, trying to pull away.

"Jim. Please allow me to assist you."

More than anything else, it was the use of his first name that stilled Kirk, and gentled his temper. Spock's eyes were showing guilt. Maybe the Vulcan felt bad about his outburst on the bridge. Well he wasn't the only one that had regrets about that. And before Kirk could stop himself, before had time to think, it was out.

"Spock, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…" he trailed off, not even sure where he was going with this. He couldn't tell Spock about the other Spock. He could not explain his reasons. But he wanted to get his sincerity across. He felt no anger toward the Vulcan for the beating. Only compassion for the other's predicament. Kirk had deserved every punch of it, and he knew it.

Spock cocked to his head to the side. "To what are you referring, Captain. Your inability to see yourself to sickbay is not something for which you would need to apologize. It is irrational. Indeed, since in all likelihood I inflicted the injuries for which you require treatment, I should be the one apologizing. "

"No, Spock, no. Not for that. For what I said, on the bridge. I feel so guilty. I'm so sorry. I did not mean it, not any of it. I just …I needed to save my planet."

Spock nodded but did not respond immediately. He studied the floor, his expression thoughtful. "Your apology is …" he seemed to be searching for a word. "It is appreciated, Captain. But it is unnecessary. The outcome of the situation was... satisfactory."

_Satisfactory_. They'd saved Earth. The Vulcan talent for understatement would never cease to amaze Kirk.

He put a hand on the Vulcan's shoulder. "I know you loved your mother," he said quietly, almost to himself.

Spock looked up, clearly startled. His eyes held a question he could not voice.

"We could all see it in your eyes on the transporter pad. I know you loved her. And you beamed down; you put your own life in danger to get them out. None of us doubt it. You shouldn't either, Spock."

Spock nodded, slowly. "Thank you, captain. Now you must get to sickbay." The tone brooked no argument.

Might as well surrender gracefully. Kirk didn't want to pass out in the hallway after all. He shrugged and allowed the contact. He gestured toward the sickbay doors. "Lead on, commander."

Spock steered him gently through the door to the nearest available bed. "Lie down. I shall return when I have located one of the ship's surgeons."

Kirk caught Spock's arm as he walked away. "Get McCoy. If you can. It'll be easier." Kirk wanted someone who knew about his medical history. He didn't want to end up with numb tongue again, or sausage hands. It was his last thought before sleep claimed his consciousness.

* * *

He was awoken by the Vulcan's shaking for the second time a short while later. The person with him was definitely not Bones. Damn, there went any hope of anesthesia. It wasn't a risk he wanted to take right now. He could not be incapacitated. "Captain, I was unable to locate Dr. McCoy, as he is still operating on Captain Pike, however, this man is a—"

"It's fine, Mr. Spock. It's fine." He turned his attention to the other, and quirked an eyebrow in his best imitation of Spock. The man looked as tired as Jim felt, and that was saying something. There were many colors of blood on his uniform. He hesitantly raised a tricorder. "Go ahead, Doc. No drugs. Too many allergies"

"But sir—"

"Captain—"

Kirk was too tired to explain. He put on his command face, and held up a hand. "You heard me doctor."

The man looked abashed, but nodded.

And then he lay back, determined to let the man get on with it. The tricorder analysis revealed little that he had not already anticipated. Except he had a concussion. Well, no shock there. It explained the headache. He was also dehydrated. Huh. He hadn't thought of that one. Apparently, he was lucky not to have punctured a lung with all his seven broken ribs. The gashes on his back were deep, but not life threatening.

Kirk dozed as the doctor analyzed him, slipping in and out of the conversation. Spock hadn't left yet. _Weird_. He'd thought the Vulcan was just going to drop him off. But the other man stood there impassively, observing the proceedings. Kirk thought for a moment about ordering the commander back to the bridge, but couldn't make himself care enough to do it.

It seemed the doctor had finished speaking, and was ready to move on to the treatment part of the plan.

"You need to remove your shirt, sir."

Kirk sat up, and fumbled for the hem of the black shit. His movements were awkward and clumsy, as he attempted to make his sleep deprived limbs respond to what he wanted them to do. He hissed as the material clung to the gashes on his back.

The doctor, whose name he still did not know, whistled at the sight of his midsection.

"You must have had a hell of a day." Over the doctor's shoulder, Kirk noticed Spock's expression tighten.

"You don't know the half of it." Kirk responded. He looked down at himself and saw what had caused the other two so much consternation. His ribs were rainbow of black, red, purple, blue and green.

He shrugged. "I've had worse." It wasn't a lie.

Spock raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. But Kirk wasn't telling that story now.

"Just go ahead and fix them, already."

But the doctor still looked hesitant. "Captain, I can't in good conscience use the bone setter on you without giving you some form of pain killer. It's not permissible."

Kirk sighed. He really just wanted to go to sleep. He didn't care if the ribs got fixed or not. Hell, he didn't care if _any_ of him got fixed or not. He just wanted to sleep.

"Fine. Give me whatever. Just understand I might be allergic to it." He didn't even care if he ended up with numb tongue.

The doctor still looked uncertain. He didn't really blame the man. The doctor's options sucked. Give the acting captain a potentially life threatening hypo, or _knowingly _cause your commanding officer incredible pain. He took pity on the man.

"Look, if it helps, I've had it used with no anesthetic before. It wasn't a picnic, but I got through it. I'll tell you if I can't handle it, ok?" The doctor nodded and lifted the bone-setter. Kirk gritted his teeth, as he lifted his arms to make it easier for the doctor to work.

_It was bad. It was really, really bad._

It was god awful. Shit, how had he forgotten how much this hurt?

The bone setter worker in much the same way that the human body did; only it forced the growth to occur in a matter of minutes instead of four to six weeks. The pain was something akin to a tiny drill boring into the heart of the bone and forcing it to stretch.

He ground his teeth together and held his breath. But he could not quite suppress the wince.

He shut his eyes against the light and waited for the pain to end.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. _

And just when he thought he'd have to break and ask the doctor for a hypo (reaction be damned), he heard Spock step up beside him.

_Perfect._

"Captain, if I may be of assistance?" Spock's tone was flat. Kirk couldn't place it. What did Spock want to do? He was too tired to try and figure it out.

Kirk wracked his mind to focus. "What, Spock?" The words were slurred. He was so tired.

Kirk felt the Vulcan's hand settle on his shoulder, and then his world faded to darkness.

* * *

So what do you think? Please read and Review. And this is just going to be a friendship fic.

AN: It only takes about four pounds of pressure to break a human rib, so I'm assuming Kirk has quite a few of them broken because he gets hit in the ribs a lot. Spock just destroyed him in that fight. Also, Kirk was as assistant instructor in advanced hand to hand combat. It takes a very serious hit to make someone trained to fight drop their hands. Kirk drops his hands. He loses the ability to even attempt to defend himself. He had to be really hurting after that fight with Spock is all I'm saying. And then Nero and Ayel also beat the tar out of him. I'm running with that.


	2. Chapter 2

Still don't own them. EDIT and REPOST. Now betaed thanks to 1lostone. Thank you.

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To clarify, They're not yet back to Earth from the movie. I'm assuming it took them a couple days to get back to Earth, because Spock went to warp in the Jellyfish, and Nero followed him and then Sulu followed both of them, and they went a little ways. Since they ejected the warp core, they would have to go home at sub-light, so it would have taken a few days...(ish). Kirk's been awake so long because in my version, he hasn't slept since the night before his hearing. He's Kirk, so he didn't sleep during the crisis, and then he was afraid of another crisis. Don't worry, he'll get to sleep eventually.

* * *

Kirk came to as the doctor was attempting to reset the bones in his hand. Shit that hurt. Hands were the worst. All the tiny bones. Bones had already set those once. McCoy was gonna freaking kill him. Should have left the bandage on.

Should have stayed in the pod.

_Damn Stupid Vulcan Nerve Pinch_. Now his shoulder hurt. But he noticed that it was not as painful as it had been the first time. Clearly Spock had taken it easy on him.

Kirk grimaced.

He glanced down at his chest. It was still rainbow hued, but it didn't hurt to breathe anymore, which likely meant the ribs were fixed. So just the hand to finish and the eye to go. Oh and the back. Not too bad, he could endure that. It wouldn't be long. Then he could sleep.

Kirk looked around for Spock. He had a feeling that the Vulcan would still be around.

He was not disappointed. The science officer was hovering just behind the doctor. Spock's hands were clasped behind his back, and he was observing the proceedings with obvious interest.

"Shouldn't you be on the bridge, Commander?" Kirk asked him. He was getting tired of being babysat. Bone knitting always made him grumpy.

"Alpha shift ended approximately seven point four minutes ago, Captain. I am not required at this time."

"Oh." That meant that he'd been out longer than he thought. It must have taken a while to get the ribs all worked out.

Kirk allowed his mind to drift again. What was the Vulcan still doing here? Shouldn't he be off somewhere spending his free time…however Vulcans spent their free time?

The doctor was wrapping his hand.

Maybe Kirk could get him to do the gashes on his back before the eye socket. It would be nice to be able to lie back when they fixed his face. The doctor was already raising the bone setter.

He held up a hand to forestall the doctor's movements.

"Doc, can you do my back first? I'd like to lie down."

Kirk could barely endure the look of compassionate understanding that the doctor fixed upon him.

"What's your name anyway?" he said, realizing he still had not asked the man. Great now he could add "rude" to his reputation of "arrogant, charming, stupid and reckless. Great.

"M'benga, Captain." Kirk nodded.

"I will see to your back immediately, sir. Just let me get a few things." M'benga laid the bone setter down on the edge of Kirk's bed, and walked away, presumably to fetch the stuff that would be needed to fix Kirk's back. He and Spock were left alone.

"Captain, may I inquire as to how you sustained such injuries to your back?"

Kirk really didn't want to talk about it. He just wanted to rest. He also didn't want to add to Spock's guilt. His response was terse.

"Delta Vega."

What small emotion that had been showing in the Vulcan's eyes shrouded over as Spock's expression shuttered closed. Spock looked as though he wanted to say something, but then thought better of it. He nodded.

The two of them waited in uneasy silence for M'benga to return. The moment stretched to what felt like infinity.

Spoke broke the silence. "Captain, I regret-"

Kirk held up a hand. "Forget it, Spock. We all did what we thought we had to." Kirk was silent for a little while, and then he continued, "It worked out. And you aren't the only one with regrets about their actions."

The Vulcan stepped around the bed and mumbled a quick, "With your permission?" as he moved.

Kirk flinched away. "Don't pinch me again, Spock." He didn't need any more pain today. He hurt too bad already.

"That was not my intention. I was requesting permission to view the extent of the injuries to your back."

"Oh. Um fine, I guess." Kirk didn't really want Spock to see any more than he already had, but really what did it matter? It wasn't worth the effort. Embarrassed, he ducked his head.

The Vulcan studied him in silence. The scrutiny raised the hairs of Kirk's neck. Finally, very quietly, Spock said, "I'm sorry, Jim."

"S'not your fault, Spock." Well, maybe it was. But Kirk didn't blame him. Not anymore.

The Vulcan inclined his head again. "May I inquire again as to exactly how the injuries were sustained, Captain? Their type is unfamiliar to me. Would I be correct in the assumption that you chose not to remain in your pod?"

Kirk laughed.

"You would be correct, Commander. I climbed out of it as soon as I woke up from your nerve pinch thing."

"Climbed, Captain?"

"Um, yeah Delta Vega's an ice planet, and the pod burned through about twenty feet of ice before it came to rest. I had to climb out."

"Your level of climbing proficiency is sufficient to scale twenty feet of solid ice?"

Jim cleared his throat. He didn't really want…oh who the hell was he kidding? He already had a reputation for recklessness, which was not entirely undeserved. Might as well own up to it.

"It's a hobby of mine."

He was not going to comment further on the subject.

"I surmise that the injuries to your back were not sustained during this climb?" Spock was looking at him like he was some sort of nut job. Damn, they'd been getting along so well. Today. They'd been getting along so well today.

"Um no. I got chased by a Drakoulias, that's like this giant polarilla thing. Like a gorilla and a polar bear had a baby. And it was chasing me. But I got lucky cause that got eaten by this huge freaking Hengrauggi which like just burst up from under me. A spider Godzilla thing. It saved my life and then it tried to eat me. While I was trying to get away from it, I fell down some sort of cliff, and I got banged up a little. But I think the back's from the fall. I think. Not entirely sure."

The Vulcan blinked at him.

Damn.

Kirk thought he'd stunned Spock into silence.

Just as Kirk began to wonder where his doctor had gone, they were approached by a nurse. A nice-looking nurse. She was blond, and she had legs that went on for days.

Despite his weariness, Kirk beamed his most charming smile at her.

She humored him with a tight smile back. It didn't reach her eyes. Great. Bones musta warned her off. After the stunts he'd pulled on this mission, he'd be lucky if he ever got laid again. He might be spending the rest of his life in prison.

_Don't think about it._ Great now he was giving himself orders. Unsuccessfully.

Vaguely, he wondered how much trouble he was really going to be in?

What _was_ saving Earth worth?

He hoped it was a lot.

The nurse checked his vitals, and informed him that McCoy would be out of surgery very soon and M'benga had been called to some sort of emergency with one of the passengers.

Passengers. That meant one of the Vulcans. Shit. "Spock, would you be willing to—"

"Indeed, sir. I will ascertain the nature of the emergency." Kirk nodded wearily. Spock was headed in direction of which M'benga had disappeared.

He was alone with the Nurse.

She moved awkwardly around him, as though embarrassed by his presence. He wondered why. He only had his shirt off. She couldn't be that naïve. Could she?

"Dr. M'benga told me to clean your wounds, sir."

Kirk nodded. He'd expected that.

She moved behind him and gasped, her hand still hovering in mid-air. "Captain, how did you-? " She cut herself off at his glare.

He was tired of explaining himself. No, he was tired of justifying himself.

Kirk sighed.

"It's a long story." He wasn't repeating the story to anyone but McCoy. He was too drained.

She smiled at him honestly this time. "I bet it is, sir."

He hissed as she applied the sanitizer to his back.

"I'm sorry, sir, some of these are quite deep." Yeah, tell me something I don't know, Kirk thought. Those would be the Hengrauggi scratches. He was lucky to be alive. Thank God for old Spock. Old...er Spock. Shit, this was going to confusing. It already was confusing. Spock hated him. But older Spock didn't. This Spock thought he was a moron. That Spock thought he was a hero. And that Spock thought that he had worth.

It was the first time that James Kirk could ever remember someone really believing that of him.

He wondered vaguley if there was a way to get from here to there.

It would be nice to have a friend like that.

Kirk was shaken from his reverie by the nurse's voice."I believe you may have a minor infection as well, sir." Great. More time in sickbay. Woo hoo.

"Do what you have to do, nurse." He just wanted to sleep, why couldn't any of them see that?

"If you could lay on your stomach, sir, I'll get started."

Kirk obeyed her request and lay down. He was lolling off to sleep when he felt a hypo hiss against his neck.

Instantly alert, he caught her arm. "What did you give me?" His chest had already starting to burn. He forced his eyes to focus.

She recoiled from the ferocity of his movements. "It's just a simple pain killer, sir. It's perfectly harmless."

But it wasn't. Kirk could feel that already.

"Get McCoy," he gasped. "Aller-"

It was all he could get out around the reaction. His mouth was swelling. Everything was swelling. He couldn't breathe.

Kirk started shaking. Why did his mouth feel wet?

Vaguely, as though from a far away dream, he heard alarms and shouting. Dammit, the ship was in danger.

Bridge.

Must go...bridge.

He knew he shouldn't have left. He tried to rise. But he was seizing in earnest now, and his limbs wouldn't complete the necessary movements.

"Dammit Jim, stay down!" McCoy's voice was strained and very angry. Where had Bones come from?

"Bo—" Kirk couldn't complete the word. He was shaking too hard.

He was grateful when he passed out. At least it hadn't been because of Spock this time.

* * *

So this chapters a little short. The next one'll be longer. Please read and review, and let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer. If they were mine, they would never be allowed out of the hot tub.

* * *

Kirk came to awareness slowly. Someone was swabbing his brow. His vision was sluggish in returning. The world was still dark at the edges, fading to dim in the middle. He identified the smells as sickbay.

Funny how all sickbays smelled the same.

How was he in sickbay? He ransacked his mind to remember. Bridge. Spock. Alarm.

_Alarms_.

He sat up with a start.

The ship. Oh god, she was in danger. Why was he lying here?

He sat straight up and was out of bed before his memories caught up with his reflexes. Kirk was immediately pushed back on the bed.

"Dammit, Jim! Lay back!" McCoy's tone was nearby, frustrated, and nearly frantic. When had Bones gotten here? Wasn't he operating?

"Ggn hel…pgrrs…hip?" His mouth was dry. Kirk's could tell his response hadn't sounded like words. He tried to throw off the restraining force. He bucked up from the table and swung wildly. He felt and heard his fist connect.

There was a thud; something had fallen. Or someone. Ooops. Well, they'd forgive him.

He heard someone shout for help. For Security.

Good, he could use security. They'd let him back to the bridge.

Kirk was in a panic. He needed to get out of here, to make them understand. He coughed hard, his whole body convulsing, as he barked, "Havta elp m'ship." He needed to make himself be understood.

But there were people holding him back. His arms were pinned, he couldn't move.

"Jim, the _Enterprise_ is fine! Lay back!" The tone was firm, restrained. Another arm pushed across his chest, forcing him back on the bed.

Huh. The red alert klaxons weren't going anymore. Kirk forced himself to reevaluate the situation.

As he calmed, his vision cleared. There were a great many people around his bed.

Bones looked _pissed_.

"Lay back, Jim." Bones' voice was softer now, gentler. "The ship is not in danger." The familiar drawl soothed Kirk. McCoy wouldn't lie to him; if Bones said the ship was not in danger, then the ship was _not_ in danger.

Kirk laid back.

"Finally." McCoy's words were angry and his face was a sneer. Anyone who didn't really know the doctor would think that he was furious. But his tone was soft when he spoke.

Kirk's mind was sure it remembered red alerts. "Bones, what happened? Why were there alarms?"

"Jim, there weren't any alarms." McCoy was giving him that _you-need-another-hypo_ look. Kirk brought his hands up to cover his neck.

"There were. And screaming. Heard 'em right before I passed out."

"Those were about you, Jim. You nearly died."

"Huh?" Kirk's mouth was a desert; his tongue clung to the roof of his mouth, making it to speak. He still didn't get it.

Bones was losing his non-existent patience.

"They were bio alarms, you idiot, not alerts. They were for you! You coded on the table." The doctor's voice was quiet again.

"Oh." Yeah, eloquent as usual, Jim, he thought to himself, but Kirk couldn't think of anything else to say.

McCoy's expression went stern. "Jim, you wanna tell me how you happen to have been mauled by a Hengrauggi?"

Kirk just wanted to go back to sleep. How long had he been out? That made two times he'd been unconscious and hadn't ended up with any real sleep. His voice, when he spoke, was weary.

"I wasn't mauled, Bones."

"Jim, you had claw marks on your back. Marks, Jim, as in multiple, more than one. How in the hell-?"

"Bones, how does a person normally get claw marks on their back?" Kirk was actually surprised he sounded so tired.

"I know how you normally get them, Jim, but you didn't get these during sex."

_Good thing too. Ouch. _

"Might have done, Doc, might have done." Kirk smirked. At the look that Bones gave him in response, Kirk smiled wider. He should patent that smirk. _Yeah_. He could call it the Kirk Smirk, and trademark it and everything. Then people would have to pay royalties to piss off Bones, 'cause nothing did it like the smirk.

Yeah.

But wait, since he was a member of Starfleet, would Starfleet have the rights? Cause then he would have to pay Starfleet. And no way in hell was he paying anyone to piss off McCoy. It was one of Kirk's great life pleasures.

Was he even thinking these things?

God, he _needed_ to go to bed.

McCoy was still talking, lost in a dramatic soliloquy that would have done Shakespeare proud about the fleetingness of life, and the stupidity personified that was Jim Kirk, glaring at Kirk like he was personally responsible for the Hengraggi's actions.

Hengrauggi. Hen..grau...ggi. Really "spider Godzilla thing" was easier to say. Kirk was still amazed that his mind had remembered the name of the thing. Especially when he had been running for his life.

He realized he'd faded out on McCoy again, who this time was looking at him in a very strange way.

"What Bones?"

"God dammit, Jim, I don't know how you get yourself into these messes." The doctor shook his head. "Only you. Only you."

"I believe that I am to be blamed for the Captain's condition, doctor." Spock stepped up beside McCoy.

McCoy whirled on Spock, fire in his eyes. "What the hell did you _do_?"

"If you will remember, Doctor, I left him on Delta Vega." Spock eyes were emotionless; his voice was flat. "The captain chose not to remain in his pod. He encountered several animals native to the planet and was forced to flee them. One of the animals he encountered was a Hengrauggi, which attempted to ingest him."

Kirk could hear the emotion that the Vulcan was not conveying with his tone.

"S'not your fault, Spock." _You saved me_. But he couldn't tell the Vulcan that.

"Jim, you mean to tell me that you were actually chased by a Hengrauggi?" Bones' tone was weary. Kirk thought he should order his friend to bed.

Hell, he should order everyone to bed.

_Could he even do that?_

Kirk laughed to himself as he pictured the Enterprise, drifting slowly through space with an entire compliment of sleeping crewmen. It would be just like that old Earth fable, Sleeping Beauty.

But then someone would have to come and wake them all.

Kirk's luck it would be Admiral Barnett.

Now that would be a rude awakening.

The thought alone was enough to put Kirk off sex for weeks.

He definitely needed to order himself to bed.

Spock and Bones were staring again. Oh right, he hadn't answered the question.

"Um, yeah." That should cover it.

"And you got away?" The doctor's voice was incredulous. "You do know they have six legs, and can move way faster than you could possibly run?"

"Um…yeah?." Kirk was pretty sure he knew all that. It had been chasing him, not Bones, after all.

"How?"

Kirk just shook his head. He'd said enough.

"I must confess, captain, that I am also interested in the details of your escape. It seems most improbable."

"You gonna quote me the odds, Spock?" Maybe if Kirk could baited them, he could get them away from this topic.

Kirk didn't want the universe to blow up or anything.

Enough things had blown up today. That thought sobered him.

"They are approximately, 170,893 to one, sir, of your escaping unaided with only the injuries you sustained."

"I fell down a cliff and ran into a small cave where it had trouble getting at me." No way he was saying any more than that. "It's fine. I'm fine."

Kirk needed to change the subject. "So, alarms....""

"Jim, you nearly died. You had an anaphalatic reaction to the painkiller that Nurse Chapel gave you."

Right. Legs for days. Blond. His memory was coming back now. Kirk smirked again.

McCoy was completely unapologetic about Kirk's near death experience. "How many times have i told you to come get _me _when you need treatment?!!!!!!!"

"You were in surgery, Bones."

"Dammit, Jim, I could have directed someone. You nearly died." God but Bones liked to say that. "You should have gotten me." McCoy's tone was quieter now. Kirk felt like running for cover. Romulans had nothing on the doctor when Bones was in this mood. Shit, he must have _really _scared McCoy.

"I am afraid, Doctor, that the captain's failure to seek you out was my doing as well. Upon our arrival here in sickbay, Jim did request that I seek you out. I was unable to locate you so I requested the assistance of Doctor M'benga, whom I know to be a competent physician." Spock spoke up. Damn but the Vulclan was taking credit for a lot of Kirk's mistakes.

Kirk needed to put a stop to it. Now.

"Again, not your fault, Spock. I'm just a freak of nature. Allergic to everything."

Even Bones looked chastised by that statement.

"And Bones," Kirk continued, "Its not like you've never had to treat me for anaphalaxis before. What's up with the attitude?"

It was Spock's turn to look taken aback. "Your lack of concern about your near death implies a desensitization to the idea. Am I to understand this is a frequent occurrence?"

McCoy answered before Kirk this time. "It happens all the damn time. He's allergic to everything. Really. At least medically. If he wasn't in the hospital at least once a month, I'd think there was something wrong with him."

"Thanks, Bones." Kirk responded. He hated when people found out about his medical history. They always looked at him differently afterward.

"And Jim, I nearly lost you twice. You had a seizure remember? You were frothing at the mouth. One of the anti-allergic drugs reacted to the poison from the Hengrauggi claws. You went into cardiac arrest. You were dead for six full minutes, Jim. I wasn't sure I'd get you back." Despite the gruffness of the doctor's voice, Kirk could hear the concern in McCoy's voice. He'd scared the man. No, he'd really scared the man.

Spock had started at the mention of the cardiac arrest.

That's right, the Vulcan hadn't been present for that part. Spock had left to see to the passengers.

The passengers. Shit. The Vulcans. He'd forgotten.

"Spock, what happened to the passengers? The emergency?"

Spock nodded, hands behind his back. If Spock had been anyone else, Kirk would have thought that he was steeling himself for something distasteful.

"One of the surviviors suffered a collapse due to emotional distress."

Kirk nodded. "Well, that's perfectly understandable." He wasn't going to push Spock. Not now. He smiled to himself. No knew the consequences of pushing Spock. Wouldn't be doing that again any time soon.

Spock looked surprised by Kirk's failure to press for more information. And then relieved.

Kirk wondered when he'd gained the ability to read Spock. Maybe it had been the mind meld.

He felt like he knew Spock now.

Shit, he was tired. This was all too much to think about.

_Bed, he needed a bed._

"So how am I now, Bones?" Kirk wondered about his chances of getting out of sickbay. He wouldn't really be able to rest here. He hated hospitals and sickbays. They made him nervous. He never slept well in them. He couldn't feel secure in a place where people could just walk in and out. Kirk didn't trust doctors. Bones knew that.

"You'll be fine, if you listen to your doctor. You need rest. Sustained rest."

"Yeah, I know, Bones, I've been trying to get it."

"Let me set your eye, and then you are going to bed. For at least sixteen hours."

Kirk would have given anything not to be having this conversation in front of Spock. "I don't have a bed. So I guess I have to sleep here." He hung his head. Kirk did not have the strength to fight anymore.

He'd been unconscious twice and both times he'd woken up more tired than he'd been before he'd passed out. He resigned himself to a third time.

"No, Jim, you're taking my bed."

Kirk looked up sharply, but McCoy was serious. Kirk silently blessed his friend's loyalty. It was one of the kindest things he'd ever heard. People weren't generally nice to him. McCoy was though. McCoy was exhausted, and still he was giving Kirk his bed. And people had the balls to complain about McCoy's beside manner.

But Kirk knew the ship needed its senior doctor. The passengers and Pike especially. And if they were going to continue to have McCoy function at full capacity, then McCoy needed to sleep...like now.

"No, Bones, I'll sleep here. You go to bed. That's an order, Doctor."

McCoy glared daggers at him, but then his shoulders slumped. "You won't sleep if you stay here, Jim." McCoy's voice was quiet. Spock was observing the byplay between them like it was a tennis match. "You have to sleep."

"Orders, Bones." Kirk said insistently. Damn it-Bones was going to bed.

"If I may, Captain, I believe I have a solution," said Spock. "It was my intention to propose this idea when I first escorted you to sickbay."

Kirk and McCoy just stared at him.

"Vulcans need considerably less sleep than do humans. I achieve a significant amount of physical refreshment from mediation. If you will permit it, I suggest you retire to the bed in my quarters, and I will see you are not disturbed, sir."

Kirk gaped at Spock

_Oh what the hell. _

He needed to sleep. And he wouldn't' do that here.

Kirk sighed.

"Alright, commander."

Spock blinked. He evidently hadn't expected Kirk to take him up on the offer.

But Kirk was too tired to think further. There could be a bed in his future. That was enough. It was as far into the future as he was looking.

Bones was still gaping at Spock. His mouth was open. The doctor looked kind of like a gasping fish.

Kirk smirked.

Now he just had to make it to Spock's quarters.

"Can we go then?" he asked.

Spock nodded. "Indeed, sir. We may depart as soon as the doctor clears you to leave sickbay."

The statement seemed to kick McCoy's brain into gear. "Lay back, Jim. This is going to hurt."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at the doctor's words, but Kirk had always appreciated Bones' honesty. He hated being lied to.

The eye fracture was easily worse than the ribs. It was the worst pain Kirk had felt in a while, and that was saying something.

He ground his teeth together and grimaced.

It would all be over soon.

Then he could sleep.

Kirk couldn't wait.

And before he expected, but long after he wanted, it was over. McCoy helped him off the bed, and gave him a clean undershirt.

Kirk nodded gratefully.

He only had to make it to Spock's.

_Bed. Soon._

It was becoming a mantra.

"Jim, you'll have to take it easy on the ribs for a few days. They'll be fragile and susceptible to re-breaking." Bones sounded exhausted.

Kirk nodded again. He didn't have the energy to speak. He couldn't wait to leave.

He was so tired.

Kirk swayed on his feet as he stood up. Spock caught his arm, and set him upright. It was the second time the Vulcan had had to do so in twenty four hours. Kirk knew he needed to get some frigging sleep, so people wouldn't have to keep catching him so that he wouldn't fall.

Kirk clawed at his mind to focus.

They walked in silence toward deck six.

McCoy followed them into Spock's quarters. It was like a sauna in here. Way warmer than the rest of the ship. Kirk didn't have the energy to argue. It was kind of relaxing actually.

Evidently, McCoy did not agree. "God, it hot in here."

Spock nodded, hands behind his back. "The temperature is set for Vulcan normal, Doctor."

Kirk held up a hand to forestall the coming argument. "I don't mind it, Mr. Spock. I appreciate your hospitality."

Spock nodded. Man, the guy nodded, like, a lot. "It is my honor, captain. The sleeping area is through there." He gestured toward a screened off alcove to the left.

Kirk walked in the indicated direction. The room was sparsely decorated, and very clean. The bed was neat.

Kirk removed his boots and sat down heavily. McCoy was beside him instantly. "You okay, Jim?"

"Just tired, Bones. Just tired." God he was exhausted.

McCoy helped him to lay back as his bruised ribs protested. McCoy tucked him under the blankets. Through the hazy of exhaustion it occurred to Kirk that Joanna had a good dad.

Kirk looked at Spock. "You sure this is okay, Spock? I won't disturb your meditation?"

"It is and you will not. I will ensure that he is undisturbed, doctor." Spock's tone was very quiet.

"Thank you, Spock. Try to make sure that he doesn't move his ribs." Bones voice was no louder than Spock's. They were trying to be quiet for him. It was kinda nice.

"I will indeed, doctor." Spock nodded again.

Kirk wanted to snap at them for discussing him like he wasn't there, but truth was, he was too tired to care, and too close to sleep. He allowed his eyes to flicker closed, and then he knew no more.

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So a slightly longer chapter this time. Please read and review. And yes, I totally went there. Spock and Bones just tucked in Jim.

My Beta is the lovely sethnakht, who frequently is called upon to edit after I post, so all errors are my own, but luckily she keeps me from sounding too incompetent. Thank you to those who noticed spelling errors. I'm dyslexic. No really, I am. Typing is hard. Hence some of the nervous about posting.

This is still a friendship fic.

AN: To those of you that were concerned-this is still a friendship fic. That's all its going to be. I love slash, and have no problems with it. But that is not this story and is not going to be.

BTW: Because some of you asked...klaxons are alarm bells. Almost always on ships.

And coded ....is a medical slang/jargon for flat-lining. Or cardiac arrest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer.** In the words of Barlett:"I have gathered a posy of other men's flowers and nothing but the thread that binds them is mine own." I think that's clear enough.

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This is for **angelbaby1**, because she constantly inspires me. If you like this, you should totally **go read her Atlas**...cause it'll take your breath away.

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**Warning…**There's a lot of swearing in this one. Don't like, don't read.

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"Captain. Captain."

Kirk came back to awareness slowly, blinking his eyes and trying to shake the fuzzies from his brain. He shook his head, as though the movement alone could help to clear the cobwebs. Kirk ached all over. His ribs felt like they were on fire.

He wasn't in his dorm bed. Where in the hell was he?

Then in an instant, it all came back. Spock's quarters. Spock's bed. Right.

Spock was shaking his shoulder. Again. God, how many times was he gonna get woken this way?

"Jim."

Wearily and blearily, Jim blinked up at him.

"What'izit?" His mouth seemed to have developed cobwebs like the rest of his brain. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, and it tasted like a tribble had slept in it.

God, he'd been sleeping with his mouth open.

Spock did not appear to have noticed his dilemma. "Captain, wake up for a moment. You will damage your ribs. Doctor McCoy was most explicit that I not permit you to damage yourself."

"H..uh?" Kirk's mind was still fuzzy. He couldn't wake. It was as though his body, finally allowed sleep, was not allowing him to surface from it. Kirk could not focus on what Spock was saying. He was sleeping for the love of God. How could he damage himself?

Kirk was curled into a tiny ball, mostly on his stomach, around Spock's pillow. Ok, so there were more embarrassing things than sleeping with your mouth open. He was wedged in a tiny corner of the bed, against the wall. He didn't have the energy to move. Kirk resolutely closed his eyes and cuddled the pillow. He was going back to sleep.

He felt Spock's hands at his sides, gentler than he could have ever imagined, pulling him gently, almost tenderly back onto his side. "Captain, please roll back onto your back, or your opposite side. You will damage your ribs or your eye if you remain in this position."

Kirk allowed Spock to guide him onto his right side taking the weight off of the more damaged area, while his whole body screamed in protest at the movement.

It was more comfortable. The terrible pressure against his ribs eased a bit.

Kirk felt himself slipping into sleep again. "Thanks, Spock," he mumbled, barely registering the Vulcan's look of surprise before he slipped off to sleep again.

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Some hours later, he was shaken awake again, with Spock calling his name.

This time Kirk came to awareness much more quickly. His head felt more clear. He must have gotten a good amount of sleep. Wow. His brain felt normal. It was the first time in quite a while that that had happened. Kirk felt…better.

_Sweet._

He stretched, yawning, and allowed his arms to extend up over his head, pointing his toes as the ecstatic shudder rolled through him.

_Fuck. Bad idea. _

His body hurt. Every muscle screamed in protest at the movement. He could not stop the groan that escaped his lips.

Spock looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Are you in pain, captain?"

Kirk shook his head. "I'm fine, Mr. Spock." Damn, even the head shaking sent tremors up and down his body. This sucked.

He endeavored to roll himself to a sitting position. "Was there something you wanted, commander?"

"Starfleet Command is most insistent to speak with you."

_Oh Shit._

Here come the consequences, Kirk thought. Time to see how much saving the world is worth.

His panic must have shown in his face because Spock began to speak again. "Captain Pike is not yet conscious although the doctor believes he will make a sufficient recovery."

Kirk nodded. That was good news.

"Furthermore," Spock continued, "I have already spoken with Starfleet Command. They are aware of the unusual parameters of the situation aboard the Enterprise."

Unusual parameters… Kirk understood Spock's meaning, but really sometimes it was like the Vulcan wasn't even speaking standard.

Spock continued, "Both Dr. McCoy and I were able to keep them from speaking to you for as long as possible, while you were partaking of rest. However, Lieutenant Uhura has been told that if you were unavailable for this communication, the entire bridge crew would be placed on charges for insubordination, with both Dr. McCoy and myself under possible charges for contempt of command."

_Wow. _

So the crew had gone to bat for him. Awesome. Kirk hadn't been sure whether they liked him that much. Well, maybe they didn't like him, per say, but they respected him enough to risk pissing off Starfleet.

Wow.

Kirk suddenly felt a tightness in his chest that had nothing to do with the pain in his ribs.

He nodded to show that he had understood the science officer. "Okay, okay. Just let me get up and you can put them through."

Spock nodded at him again in return. "I did endeavor to make it known to the Admiralty that you were recovering from injuries sustained in the course of the mission, and that it would likely require some time to wake you."

Kirk nodded again. God, how much of this communication was going to be non-verbal.

He braced his arms beside his body and attempted to level himself off the pillow. His biceps shook from the effort of taking his weight. The trembling increased as he levered himself upward. Instantly, he felt Spock's hand at this back, hot through the thin black undershirt, helping him into a seated position.

Kirk shut his eyes for a second, reveling in the relief from having accomplished that much without thoroughly embarrassing himself. He pushed the covers back with a grunt and was surprised by the slight chill that hit his skin.

Spock had lowered the ambient temperature of the room to human standards.

Damn. And people said Vulcans had no feelings.

For the first time, Kirk began to think that may old Spock was right about the possibility of this friendship.

He swung his legs around to the edge of the bed and nearly fell as they refused to support him. His mind was awake now, but his body felt every bit as tired as it had before he went to sleep.

Kirk could feel the lactic acid in every muscle. He needed water. And food. And more freaking sleep. It hurt to even hold his head up.

He hadn't eaten. He'd barely slept, and he'd been in these clothes for what was now approaching five full days.

He was exhausted enough to consider telling his superiors to fuck off. But that probably wouldn't go over well.

Then again…saved Earth.

He decided to wing it.

Spock helped him limp over the desk on the other side of the room, where the video monitor was located. Spock maneuvered him into a chair and offered to take his leave.

Kirk waved him off. "Stay, commander. They're your quarters, after all."

Spock acquiesced with a nod. "As you wish."

Kirk slapped the red button beside the monitor, and spoke into the comm unit.

"Kirk to bridge."

"Uhura, here, captain. I have an incoming transmission for you from Starfleet Command."

"Pipe it on through down here, please, Lieutenant." Kirk was sure she could hear the fatigue in his voice.

Her "Aye, sir," was in a quieter and more respectful tone than he had come to expect from her. He would have to thank her for that later.

Then again, she might take offense to that.

Hmmm….He'd think on it later, when he had the energy.

The screen on the monitor cellared into a picture of the Starfleet command headquarters. There were at least six admirals seated at the semi-circular table. Only three of whom he recognized, and then two only by reputation. The one furthest from the left sometimes came to chess club meetings, and had never seemed to like him. Two of the others had been at his hearing.

_Shit. He was in fucking trouble. _

He sighed and straightened his shoulders, because if he was going to get a dressing down for his actions, he was going to do with his head held high. He did not regret his actions.

And if he was court-martialed for mutiny…well, then he was....

He'd saved Earth and he wasn't sorry. Though he wished he hadn't had to say such terrible things to Spock.

He felt the Vulcan move to stand beside him. The science officer's face wouldn't be showing on the monitor, but the Admirals would surely know that he was standing behind Kirk.

_Literally if not figuratively._

God, this crew was awesome.

Kirk felt a pang at knowing that he would likely never be serving with them again.

He nearly hung his head.

No one had yet spoken. _Weird_. They were just starting at him, evaluating him.

Well, time to get this party started.

"Sirs," he said. "I understand you wished you speak with me."

Number four admiral gave number five admiral a look.

Number two spoke first. "We understand, Cadet Kirk, that you had command of the Enterprise during the recent engagement."

"Yes, sir." Kirk gave no further information. If Spock had already reported, then they knew the situation and had no need of further details for which they had not asked. He wasn't about to go volunteering any unsolicited evidence against himself.

The admirals were quiet for a moment.

Then number five barked, "Report, cadet." And that was that.

He told them almost everything, from the way he'd gotten onto the ship to the way he'd known about the lightening storm.

There was some light muttering from the peanut gallery as he mentioned having read Pike's dissertation. What? Like other cadets didn't read their advisor's dissertations?

Well, ok, maybe they didn't. He was a weird one.

Whatever. It wasn't the first time he'd been considered odd.

And really, Pike's paper had been on the _Kelvin_. Kirk would've read that even if he hadn't been focused in tactics.

Kirk continued his story, growing both more confident and more tired with every word.

They nodded at times and questioned at times, and through the explanation remained mostly stone faced.

Oh hell, Kirk just didn't care any more.

What was done, was done.

He stumbled only once in his story, at the meeting of the older Spock, because really how was he going to explain that. And younger Spock was standing beside him.

He made it sound like he'd encountered some hermit (not entirely untrue) in the ice cave and that he and Scott had worked out the trans-warp thing with help from the hermit.

Kirk could feel Spock's eyes making holes in his back at the questions about the hermit's identity.

Kirk mumbled something about not really knowing and putting more detail into his written report, while starting at his hands.

He deliberately did not look at Spock.

No way was he going to be responsible for blowing up the universe after he hadn't been in time to save Vulcan.

Kirk continued through his story about offering the Romulans mercy and ejecting the warp cores.

When he finished there was dead silence in the room.

No one spoke at all.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._

He felt worse than he had when he'd faced the Hengrauggi.

And he wished Bones was here. Maybe they could drink later. Medicinally. Cause Kirk was going to need a _lot _of whiskey if he was going to deal with losing this.

Finally number three spoke. "And that's how it happened?"

Kirk nodded, not looking up. "Yes, sir."

"Damn it boy, look at me when I'm talking to you." It came out as a growl.

Kirk snapped his head up, in a respectful imitation of snapping to attention.

"How long will it take you to return to Earth?" the man asked.

Kirk looked at Spock.

Spock answered for him. "Approximatley fourteen days, two hours, and thirty-eight minutes admiral."

The semi-circle nodded, thoughtfully.

Number three's eyes found Kirk's again. "You will report to Starfleet Command immediately upon your return."

Kirk nodded. "Aye, Admiral."

"Until then, Cadet Kirk, you may retain command of the Enterprise as long as Captain Pike is incapacitated."

Kirk felt his eyes go wide with disbelief.

Not at all what he'd been expecting.

"Commander Spock, you will act as his second. Should Captain Pike recover, it is his decision as to which of you will continue as first officer."

They both nodded.

Number six (chess club guy) spoke up. "Kirk, you look like hell."

"Uh, sorry sir. Haven't had much chance to rest."

"See that you get some."

Kirk was taken aback by the gruff show of concern. That guy had always acted like he hated him.

The admiral continued. "And see if you can't do something to relax, you're wound tight as a wire. Play him in chess commander."

Spock looked at him in amazement.

Kirk shrugged.

"Hobby of mine," was all he offered.

"Gentlemen," number five was talking now, "Bring that ship back in one piece. We don't have many left."

Kirk nodded. "Aye, sir."

"Oh and Kirk," this time it was number two again, "Good work, son."

Kirk's eyes bugged as he tried and failed to keep the disbelief off his face, as several of the others in the room nodded their agreement.

They signed off.

Kirk could have collapsed from the relief he felt.

_Really? Good work?_

Wow. Not what he'd been expecting at all.

His smile could have lit up the whole room and he knew it.

Spock was looking at him interestedly.

"Captain, let me help you back to bed. I believe you require more rest."

Kirk knew he did.

But he did not feel like sleeping now. He was too elated.

"And perhaps when you awaken, you might indulge me at a game of chess."

Kirk nodded. "I'd like that, commander. I'd like that."

The prospect was enticing enough that he allowed Spock to help him back to bed without protest, not commenting as the Vulcan drew the covers up for him.

Kirk fell back to sleep with a smile on his face.

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Please read and review.

I've been a writing fiend this week. Go Me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Brief note**. I just have to say I've been _completely overwhelmed_ by the response to this fic. I'm really flattered that you all like it so much. Every one says the nicest things. And because you all indicated that you wanted another update ASAP. Here is another update. ASAP.

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**Thanks for all the validation**. It's been a god-awful week, you know that kind where you wonder what you're even doing here, and I needed it. So this is me saying thanks. **Here's your thank you present.** It's a little short. Sorry.

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**Disclaimer:** If they belonged to me Angelbaby and T'key'la would be writing their plots.

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**This one's for everyone who reviewed. I appreciate it more than you can say.**

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**Warnings….**This chapter's mostly fluff. But there's some peanut butter to go with it. Wow, that was cheesy. Sorry its late at night here.

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For the first time in what felt like a very long time, Kirk came back to awareness on his own. He luxuriated in having not been shaken awake by anyone. He allowed his body to surface slowly, not pushing himself to alertness faster than his body wanted. For this one time, he was not going to push himself.

He remembered the scream of protest his body had rendered at the stretch this morning, or evening or whatever time it had been.

The room was dark and quiet, so Kirk had no idea of the time, but he figured someone would come and get him if they needed him.

He pressed his face back to the pillow and rolled over gently.

His ribs voiced a minor protest at the movement, as did a great many other parts of his body. Ok, so easy on the movement then.

But he still felt worlds better than he had in recent memory.

He snuggled into the covers and allowed himself to drift.

_Allowed to retain command. Good work. Allowed to retain command. Good work_.

The words reverberated over and over in his mind.

Kirk allowed himself the first genuine smile he'd had on his face in days. He didn't even mind so much as the freshly healed skin around his eye twinged as he beamed at the ceiling.

_Command of the Enterprise._

Had it been his own bed, Kirk was pretty sure that he would have been jumping on it. He could have danced. Hell, he could have flown.

_Retain command. _

Sure it was a temporary thing, while Starfleet and the admiralty worked out what exactly to do with him, but he was pretty damn sure that he wasn't going to be arrested or court marshaled upon return to Earth. Maybe, just maybe, it would turn out ok.

Not just for everyone else this time.

But for Jim Kirk.

He smiled again. Only this time, it was bigger.

When the door chimed a little later, Kirk had to make a conscious effort to compose his features.

"Come," he shouted.

That felt weird, as it wasn't his quarters that he was inviting the other person into. Kirk would see who the person was, and what they wanted and maybe tell them to come back when Spock was there.

As luck would have it, it was Scotty. With sandwiches. Many, many sandwiches. His arms were full and he had a bucket under his arm.

Kirk made an executive decision. Scotty could stay.

Spock wouldn't mind. Kirk didn't actually know if Spock would mind. Did the Vulcan eat in his quarters? But right now, Kirk didn't care.

Kirk had not realized until that moment exactly how hungry he was. When had he last eaten? Someone had brought him an apple when he was on the bridge. When had that been?

"Captain, Dr. McCoy says I'm only allowed te give theses te ya, if ya agree to stay in bed."

Kirk waited a moment to reply as he allowed his brain to translate from Scotty to standard. Once sure he'd understood what the other man had said, Kirk raised an eyebrow.

"He's a sharp tongue on 'im, your doctor friend," replied the Scotsman. "I'm no like to get on his bad side w'out meanin to." Scotty looked apologetic.

God, Kirk hated being babysat. He would kill Bones.

Right after he ate.

Provided he had the energy.

However, the engineer had brought enough food for several more people than were currently occupying this room, so it would be a while before the ass kicking.

Resigned, Kirk drew himself a little higher against the pillows and propped himself up. He felt worlds better, but he still felt kinda bad. The movement hadn't quite exhausted him, but it had been a near thing.

Kirk cursed his aching muscles.

Scotty gave him a sympathetic look and passed him a sandwich. Roast beef. _Nice_. It was about a foot long, and tasted like it had been made with freshly baked bread.

He devoured it in less than two minutes.

God, he _had_ been hungry.

Scotty looked impressed and handed over another sandwich.

This one was turkey. Kirk had to hand it to Scotty, these were amazing. He motioned for the engineer to dig in, and the two of them ate in companionable silence for several minutes.

Kirk wondered where Scotty had gotten the sandwiches.

The acting captain had never seen subs on a starship. He said as much to the engineer.

Scotty looked down and his cheeks flushed a bit as he mentioned something about reprogramming a replicator.

_Really?_

Kirk quirked an eyebrow. "Which one?" he asked. Cause he'd be using that one from now on. These were way better than Starfleet standard food. In fact, if they stayed on this ship for a while, Kirk was going to see to it that Scott did all the replicators.

Not for the first time, he blessed older Spock for sending Montgomery Scott along for the ride.

Scott went on to explain that he liked the shape of the submarine sandwich because it was long and thin, and could be easily carried around in one hand, while still leaving the other hand free to work.

Scotty had the decency to look both flustered and abashed that he had just explained that to his captain.

To whom the explanation had made perfect sense.

Kirk understood the value of sometime having to work one-handed. He'd done it often enough when he was working with his mechanics. He nodded along with the explanation, and then he quipped, "So the upgrades would in fact help to better all Starfleet in a crisis situation, because they would allow the command crew to eat one handed during a sustained emergency?"

Kirk could not quite keep the smile off his face as he said it.

Scotty blinked at him. And then he smiled knowingly. "Aye, that might be, captain. That might be."

Kirk laughed. "And to think, all the Earl of Sandwich wanted to do was to be able to eat while playing cards. He never knew he'd be bettering humanity."

Kirk laughed again, and Scotty laughed with him.

_How did this all seem so natural? Why wasn't he scared?_

If someone had asked him how he thought he'd feel about command before this moment, Kirk would have said something indifferent. But he'd thought that he'd have been scared.

He wasn't.

This felt like breathing.

"Your' keepin' up right impressive like, laddy." The Scotchman volunteered.

Huh? Had that even been in English?

Then Kirk realized. Oh. The sandwiches. Yeah. Scotty seemed like a champion eater. He'd given that impression on Delta Vega, and he was living up to that reputation now, matching Kirk sandwich for sandwich.

Kirk felt vaguely like he'd been called out in a drinking competition.

Oh well. He hadn't eaten in _days_.

He nodded at he engineer. "Haven't eaten for a while."

Scotty looked at him. "I can see that, captain. Your no big enough to eat like that all the time."

Kirk laughed again.

If felt good to laugh after the set of days he'd had recently.

Scotty offered him a fourth sandwich but Kirk refused. He wasn't sure he could eat the whole thing, and he did not waste food.

That kind of thing disgusted him. More than most people knew.

Scotty was happily munching his way through his fifth sandwich. Where the hell was he putting them? The man was a bottomless pit.

_Wow. It was seriously impressive._

The engineer finished and licked his lips. He placed his remaining sandwiches back into the grey bucket from which he'd produced them.

Kirk nodded. Must be easier to carry that way.

He was a little surprised then, when the Scotsman reached back into the bucket and pulled out and old fashioned metal hip flask.

Kirk's eyes widened.

Catching his gaze, the other man asked, "Would ye no care for a wee nip, captain? We're no on duty." He handed over the flask. Judging by the fumes coming off the thing, it was full of Scotch whiskey.

Kirk was cool with that.

Kirk grinned, "No, Mr. Scott we're not." He passed the flask back.

"I heard they're letting you keep the _Enterprise_ till we get back te spacedock."

Kirk nodded again, smiling. "They are."

"I'm glad te hear it, sir. Ye seem quite capable."

Kirk beamed at the engineer. "Thank you, Mr. Scott. As do you. That was an incredible job you did."

Scotty beamed at him. "And ye as well, lad," Scotty said, raising his flask.

"I'll drink to that," Kirk replied. So they did.

* * *

So...short. Yeah, sorry, but it usually takes weeks for me to write a chapter, and its only been 36 hours or so.

Please review some more.

With many thanks to "fan" for pointing out the spelling error with the word laddy.


	6. Chapter 6

Yet another chapter has been achieved and I still don't own them. Bah.

* * *

Kirk and Scotty were just finishing up when McCoy walked in.

Damn. Bones had a tricorder with him.

Not a social call, then.

Damn. That was likely to mean hypos.

Kirk sighed.

"Don't get up, Jim." McCoy's orders were unnecessary. If Kirk wasn't allowed to eat out of bed, then he wasn't allowed to do anything out of bed.

"Oh, good, you ate," said the doctor, as he scanned the tricorder readings. "About damn time, too."

Kirk _hated_ tricorders. You got no privacy with a tricorder. And you couldn't lie to it. Damn thing.

"He had _three_ sandwiches, doctor." Scotty emphasized the number. "I hadn't a thought the laddie could eat so much." It sounded like Scotty was trying to get him out of trouble with Bones.

Scotty was awesome.

Damn, wait,_ was_ he in trouble with Bones? Kirk was uncertain.

McCoy grunted to show he'd heard the engineer. But he was glaring at the tricorder in a way that Kirk really didn't like.

Scotty had evidently caught the look on the doctor's face, because he mumbled something about needing to get back to engineering and left the room very quickly.

Bones was till scowling at the tricorder.

_Not good._

"What's up, Bones?"

There was no discernible reaction from the doctor.

_Really not good._

Kirk tried again, a little more emphatically. "Bones."

McCoy looked up at him, surprised. The doctor had been so intent upon his readings that he hadn't heard Kirk the first time. "What? Oh, sorry, Jim."

"What is it, Bones?"

"You're not healin' as well as I'd like, Jim." Damn, McCoy must be frustrated; his drawl only came out like that when he was really upset.

Kirk raised his eyebrows.

"You oughta be damn near back to a hundred percent by now," Bones continued. "But ya aren't."

"I'm fine, Bones." Kirk meant it. He was still sore, but he was worlds better than yesterday.

"Ya need more sleep." Well, hell, Kirk knew that. But he wasn't going to be getting it right this minute. He'd just woken up and all, and he wasn't going right back to bed. Kirk didn't think he could sleep. He was too excited.

"I'm gonna give you a hypo of vitamins, and we'll see if that fixes things. I took ya off duty for today."

Kirk nodded. "Okay, Bones."

McCoy cocked an eyebrow at the ease of his patient's acquiescence. The doctor prepared the hypo and pressed it to Kirk's neck, perhaps more gently than he usually would have.

Most days Kirk would have been pissed, about the hypo and the removal from duty, but he was still flying pretty high from his meeting with the admirals.

Shit. He hadn't told Bones yet.

"Bones, I got news. They're letting me stay in command."

A real smile softened the harsh lines of the doctor's face as he regarded his friend. "I know, Jim. Spock let me know."

Kirk nodded again. He really wasn't surprised. Spock seemed to be taking care of everything. He wondered where the Vulcan was, but he figured that the science officer was probably on duty. Kirk asked McCoy.

"He's on the bridge, Jim. Alpha shift." Kirk nodded. He'd figured.

"How's Captain Pike?" Jim really wanted to know. No. He needed to know.

McCoy sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked depressed. "He's stable, Jim, but he's unconscious." McCoy sighed again. "I don't know how's he gonna be when he wakes up. There was a lot of spinal damage. I just don't know." Toward the end of McCoy's discourse, the doctor sounded more grumpy and frustrated, and less hopelessly depressed. Well that was good. That was the Bones he knew and loved.

Kirk patted McCoy on the shoulder. "Well, Bones, Pike was lucky to have you working on him. There's no one I trust more."

Bones looked taken aback by the confession. Kirk wasn't prone to confessing his feelings.

McCoy's cheeks colored. "Thanks, Jim."

Kirk nodded an acknowledgment of Bones's gratitude. McCoy was his best friend, sometimes his only friend, and Kirk was grateful for him. They'd roomed together and fought together and studied together, and had even slept in the same bed one night when Kirk had accidentally eaten some shellfish at a party and had nearly died. McCoy had stayed up with him the whole night. No one else in his life would have risked their whole career just to keep him from being left behind. Bones meant a lot to him, but the relationship between them was largely unspoken.

Kirk coughed, nervously. They had meandered into slightly uncomfortable territory.

They stood there in slightly silence for a few moments before Kirk reached up and pulled McCoy into a hug. It was an awkward angle, with Kirk propped up on the bed and McCoy standing beside him, but it worked. They pulled away and McCoy ruffled his hair.

Kirk swatted at his hand away, and just like that, they were back to normal.

"Do you need anything, Jim?"

There was one thing Kirk _really _wanted.

"I'd kinda like a shower, Bones." Kirk knew he might be pushing his luck. McCoy hadn't thus far allowed him out of bed.

Bones looked at him with a smirk on his face. "You sure smell like you could use one, Jimbo."

Kirk flipped him off.

"So, Bones. Shower. Is it doable?"

McCoy sighed. "I dunno, Jim. Can you stand? On your own?" Kirk could see that McCoy didn't want to allow this, but Kirk also knew that he might be able to get his shower from the slightly sympathetic look on the doctor's face.

Kirk propped himself up a little further on his arms as he slid his legs out over the side of the bed. His every muscle protested; Kirk fought to keep the wince off his face.

He felt like he'd run a marathon.

Bones was at his side immediately, one hand on Kirk's elbow and the other on his back. "Stand slowly, Jim, your blood pressure's a bit low, and I don't want you to pass out."

Kirk pushed slowly to his feet, allowing his head and blood pressure time to acclimate to the increased elevation of his brain.

His vision faded at the edges and the room reeled.

_Okay, so maybe bad idea_. But damn, Kirk wanted a shower.

And he was going to take one if it killed him. A captain should be clean.

He ground his teeth together and forced himself to breathe. His vision cleared.

"All right, Jim?"

"I'm good, Bones." Kirk lied.

"You realize I just saw you waver." Damn, the man missed nothing.

"Yeah, but I figured that you'd let me shower anyway with as bad as I stink right now." Kirk shot Bones his biggest smile with his most guileless eyes.

No one could ever resist that look. Not even Bones. Gaila had certainly liked it.

And as always, McCoy folded. "Dammit, Jim, I'll let you shower. Just stop pouting and acting like such an infant." McCoy's glare softened a bit a bit. "I just want you to be careful, you nearly damn near died yesterday. If you were any other patient, you wouldn't have been allowed out of sickbay."

Kirk nodded. He knew that McCoy had only let him out because the doctor knew from experience that Kirk didn't sleep at all in hospitals. When a patient didn't sleep, they didn't heal. If McCoy could have kept him and sickbay and guaranteed that Kirk could have gotten sleep, then McCoy would have kept him in sickbay.

But Kirk had slept in too many hospitals to feel remotely comfortable in any of them. They were never secure. Kirk didn't like the idea of just anyone being able to walk up to bed while he was sleeping. So he didn't sleep.

Kirk also hated doctors. All doctors, except Bones. Bones was different. Kirk _trusted_ Bones.

McCoy knew all this. So against what was probably his better judgment, he'd released his friend earlier than he'd wanted. Kirk was grateful. He'd gotten sleep last night.

And now he was going to get a shower.

He'd had sandwiches. Good sandwiches.

And command of the _Enterprise_. Legitimately.

_It was a good day._

McCoy helped him into the shower, but forced him to leave the bathroom door open so he could hear if Jim needed help.

Kirk was surprised to see that Spock shared a bathroom with Captain Pike. Which meant that it was a big bathroom.

_Nice_. He'd have to try and keep this job.

Or at least get it back someday.

Kirk turned the water as hot as he could stand it. He turned his face to the spray and let the water slide over his muscles, as he allowed the heat to seep into his back and legs, easing the ubiquitous pain. He scrubbed himself, taking care with the newly healed skin on his face and neck. Kirk avoided his back all together. That skin felt too new and tender and to touch, let alone scrub. So he let that go.

Kirk stepped from the shower to see that McCoy had replicated him another pair of pants and an undershirt. Good Old Bones. Kirk put on the clean clothes, feeling more human than he had in days.

But, God, he was exhausted. The shower had killed what remained of his energy.

When he appeared at the door of the bathroom, McCoy hurried to his side and helped him back to bed.

"Jim, I want you to sleep for a while, until Spock gets back from his watch."

Kirk nodded. He was nearly asleep now. He turned his face to the pillow and was out before Bones had left the room.

* * *

Kirk was awakened several hours later by the swish of the door. He sat up with a start, but then relaxed back to the pillows as Spock walked into the room.

But the Vulcan had seen the movement. "I regret that I have awakened you, captain."

"Its fine, commander." Kirk waved him off, yawning.

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Tell me about your shift, commander." He indicated the chair that Scotty had vacated hours ago. Kirk still wasn't sure if he was supposed to be confined to his bed still or not, but he also had no particular inclination to get up.

Spock sat with a deliberate grace that should not be allowed on anyone who was not either a professional dancer or a cat. He proceeded to inform Kirk on all that had transpired during his shift. Apparently several more Vulcans had collapsed due to the emotional trauma of recent events.

Kirk was not surprised. If he'd lost his whole planet, most of its population, and possibly his whole family all at once, then he'd have collapsed by now as well. McCoy was keeping those who collapsed in sickbay for observation.

That also made sense.

On a whole, Spock had little else in the way of news. The ship was apparently functioning within accepted parameters.

That made Kirk wonder what kind of parameters were considered acceptable for a flagship with no warp drive, crewed almost exclusively by cadets, carrying more passengers than crew, captained by a man who was not even supposed to be aboard?

He let it go. Doubtless Spock had calculated some impressive set of equations, which mere mortals would not be able to follow, in order to deal with this situation. Kirk didn't even want to ask.

When Spock had finished his report, the two were quiet for several long moments.

Then Spock spoke, "Captain, I was wondering if you might indulge me in a game of chess at this time?"

The man was always so formal. It was like his standard was English from some long forgotten era, the kind of language you read in a Jane Austin novel. Not that Kirk read Jane Austin novels.

He smiled. "It would be my honor, commander."

Spock stood and went to get the chessboard.

Kirk beamed. This was gonna be awesome.

* * *

AN: I was gonna have the chess game be in this chapter, but I'm tired and I have the flu. It'll open the next chapter. Sorry guys. I need to sleep.

Please Review. Please…


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these guys.

**AN:** I'm feeling a bit better. I mean to get this chapter out much earlier. It's been a terrible week...flu...car accident. Ugh.

* * *

It had only taken a few moments for Spock to get the chessboard. Kirk was excited to play. It had been sometime since he'd had an opponent that provided a decent match.

Sometimes before Sam had left. they'd played. Sam had always been a good opponent...

He wondered where his brother was. But with all his hacking ability, Kirk hadn't been able to find him. Sam didn't seem to want to be found. It was like he'd vanished into thin air.

Kirk pushed the thought away.

He was going to play chess with Spock and that was freaking awesome.

"Dr. McCoy has instructed me that you are to remain in bed for the duration of our game." Spock sounded slightly petulant.

"Yeah, he's always been way overprotective, Spock, sorry." Bones had been overprotective since he'd vomited on him in the shuttle on the way to the academy.

"For what are you apologizing, Jim?" Oh right, Spock didn't really speak Jim Kirk. So he translated.

"I've been monopolizing your bed for like twenty-four hours now, and I'm not allowed to leave it. I feel bad."

Not for the first time, Kirk wished he had his own bed.

"It is not an inconvenience, Captain. I am gratified you have found a safe place to sleep."

"I appreciate it, Mr. Spock." He did. He really did. He'd be sleeping in the hallway if not for Spock.

Spock set the tri-d chessboard on the edge of the bed, careful to make sure that it balanced before he took his hand away. He left it within Kirk's easy reach, which Kirk couldn't fail to notice.

His science officer was being incredibly nice to him.

Kirk hoped that Spock wasn't still feeling bad about his beating on the bridge.

He'd deserved it.

Spock had finally finished setting up the board. He'd set it up in such a way that either of them could play either side.

He decided to pre-empt the other.

"Which side would you like to play, Mr. Spock?"

"As I asked you to play the game, it would be impolitic of me of choose a side. The decision should remain with you."

"Technically, I believe you were ordered to play me," Kirk said, with a smirk on his face.

"I believed I was encouraged to play you, sir, not ordered."

"Requested by a Starfleet officer."

"Yes sir, though the statement was not phrased in such a way that indicated it was an order. Neither the timbre of the admiral's voice nor the semantics of the statement indicated that the suggestion was compulsory."

Kirk decided they might be doing this all night. He smiled at the other man. "I'll be white, commander."

Spock inclined his head. "As you wish, sir."

"It's Jim, Spock."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"We're off duty, and you actually outrank me. It's Jim."

"Jim." Spock said it slowly as though he was tasting the word. "As you wish."

Kirk could tell Spock wasn't comfortable with it.

But it would come. Maybe.

He hoped.

It would be nice to have another friend like Bones.

Hell, it would be nice to have another friend. Kirk had a lot of acquaintances, but McCoy was the only person that really knew him. Well, Pike sort of knew him, but that was different. Pike was his adviser, his mentor. He was one of the few people that was allowed to call Kirk on his bullshit. But it was different. He respected Pike and Pike seemed to like him, but they weren't exactly...close.

Shit. He'd drifted off again.

Spock had to think that he was some kind of moron.

Kirk risked a look at his first, who was waiting patiently, his face completely blank.

"Are you all right, captain?"

"I'm fine, Spock." His answer sounded terse, even to him.

"If you are incapacitated, perhaps we should play at another time." Was that disappointment on Spock's face? No, it couldn't be.

There was no way that Spock would visibly express emotion about something as trivial as a chess match.

"I'm not incapacitated. Let's play. And what did I tell you about calling me captain?" Kirk kept his tone light, he wanted to reassure the Vulcan. Everyone had been treating him like he was going to break, and it was pissing him off. Kirk was tired of being underestimated.

He moved a pawn. White moved first after all.

Spock responded with a mirroring move.

Pawn to pawn.

_Interesting_. They began cautiously. It reminded Kirk of sparring.

The tested each other, circling slowly.

Unsurprisingly, it was Kirk who first upped the ante.

He moved a bishop to threaten Spock's king even though he had no possibility of a checkmate.

Spock raised an eyebrow.

Kirk smirked.

He could see Spock attempting to determine the logic behind the move.

There hadn't been any.

He just wanted to see how Spock played under pressure. It might be important knowledge for later.

Spock was playing the match at least eight moves ahead. Kirk could see him contemplating possible moves of every possible piece on the board in attempt to determine his strategy. Wouldn't Spock be surprised to learn that he didn't have one?

Yet.

He'd figure something out.

Spock played the same way he moved, with a deliberate, graceful intensity- with logic and a clear goal in mind.

Kirk played with a total commitment to the moment.

They were incredibly well matched. The admiral had paired them perfectly.

Kirk glanced at his science officer's face. The Vulcan looked serene. It was a change from the normal controlled logical facade. Kirk wondered if anyone who hadn't shared a mind meld with this man would even be able to see it. But there was a softening of the lines around the mouth, and a slight twinkle in the Vulcan's eyes.

Spock liked a challenge.

So did Kirk.

They had each found an _equal_.

At an hour in, it qualified as an amazing match. It was a relief to simply engage his brain in a difficult task that _didn't_ have billions of lives at stake.

Kirk was more relaxed than he'd been for most of the semester. He made a mental note to send that admiral a fruit basket or something.

He was bed-bound, but he was having one of the best days of his life.

Kirk smiled.

It wouldn't matter who won this game. They could always play again.

A thought struck him.

"Hey Spock, when's the last time you lost a game?"

"It has been four years, seven months and twenty-six days. I have played no one except the computer for nearly two years, as few people play at my level," said Spock. " Are you implying you think that you will win this match?"

"No, Spock, I wasn't. I was just curious." Kirk smirked. "I don't remember the last time I lost a match."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."

Kirk smiled. "Yup."

Spock moved a knight. "Check."

Kirk moved a bishop. "Check."

He beamed at Spock.

Spock raised an eyebrow.

Kirk was fascinated. So apparently was Spock. They were playing largely in silence.

Kirk was thrilled with his partner's prowess.

Two hours later, it was the best game of Kirk's life. Their respective piles of pieces were largely the same. Spock had a bishop more than Kirk. Kirk had a rook more than Spock.

They were matched.

Spock was looking at him with new respect.

It was a start.

Kirk liked to conceal his intelligence. It had been a defense mechanism growing up. He could think, he could theorize, and he could strategize. He was incredibly gifted. He just liked to keep it to himself. That way people underestimated him, and he got to see these amazing surprised expressions on their faces. Like now.

Kirk loved it.

He would have killed for a camera. He wanted to preserve the image of Spock's face forever.

Spock would have a checkmate in five moves.

But Kirk would have a checkmate in four.

Kirk was only going to win because he had chosen white. That was fantastic. Spock had let him choose.

Kirk laughed.

His vision flared white.

_Shit that had hurt_. Evidently his ribs weren't as healed as anyone would like.

Maybe that's what McCoy had meant about not healing very well.

Spock has not missed the grimace. He was instantly at Kirk's side, "Jim, are you well?"

Kirk wheezed, trying to get his breath back. "I'm fine."

"Captain, fine has variable definitions and is therefore unacceptable." Was Spock _lecturing _him?"

"I'm fine, Spock. I'll be okay." Kirk reiterated.

Spock nodded. "As you say, sir." The first officer's tone made it clear that he thought Kirk was bullshitting him.

He wondered if Spock ever used words like 'bullshitting.'

Probably not.

"I'm fine," he said again. "Let's just finish."

Spock nodded again, his expression wary, as though he did not trust Kirk to not pass out on him. Or worse.

They finished the game in silence.

Kirk didn't know why, but the specter of his injuries seemed to be haunting Spock. Maybe because it was it was his ribs? Did Spock still feel responsible for that? Cause he shouldn't.

Kirk moved his knight, and as he withdrew his hand, he laid it over Spock's, allowing his palm to touch the back of the Vulcan's hand. "It's not your fault, Spock. I'll be fine." Kirk meant it. He didn't want Spock to feel guilty any more. He hoped the Vulcan understood.

Spock studied his eyes.

A few moments later, Spock tipped his king. "I concede," he said, eyes never leaving Kirk's. Kirk could tell the Vulcan wasn't only talking about the chess game.

_Good_.

It was about time.

Kirk couldn't wait to play Spock again. It had been amazing. Just like Kirk had known it would be.

He could not believe how relaxed he was feeling. "Thanks for the great game, Spock." Kirk gave him a fond smile.

"It is I who should be expressing my gratitude, Jim. The experience was most...stimulating."

Kirk nodded in acknowledgment. "It was, wasn't it?" He tried, but not quite manage to conceal his yawn.

"Indeed, Jim, it was. However, I believe you are fatigued, and I would not like for Dr. McCoy to 'have my hide,' so I must therefore request that you get some sleep. I will mediate for the duration."

Kirk yawned again. "Okay, Mr. Spock. What'd'ya say we get some food after?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "If you are feeling capable of in-taking sustenance when you awaken, I would be gratified to partake it with you."

Any other time, Kirk would have busted on Spock for that sentence. But he couldn't, he just couldn't make fun of the Vulcan now. He smiled at the science officer as he slid down the pillow to lay more prone on the bed. "Ok, Spock. Sounds good."

A few minutes later, he was sound asleep.

* * *

Please read and review.

Sorry meant to get this out faster, but then I started writing Haven, and it just kinda overwhelmed me. I've been updating that like twice a day. It's cathartic for me. I'm not neglecting you guys, I promise.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **"I have gathered a posy of other men's flowers and nothing but the thread that binds them is mine own." - Bartlett

* * *

**Kate Wicker, Lady Merlin**. This is for you, for being super vigilant in your reviewing and your idea giving. Also **Caro,** I hope you're feeling better. I heart you.

* * *

Jim woke with a groan.

God, he _needed _to get out of bed. He wanted to stretch and run, and possibly spar with someone.

He still felt like hell, but if he had to spend another day in bed, Kirk was going to kill someone.

And it would probably be Leonard McCoy.

Spock was at his side almost instantly.

"Are you well, Captain?" Ugh. Kirk wasn't sure.

"Yeah, Mr. Spock, I'm fine."

Kirk shook his head to get the cobwebs out.

"I'm fine." He repeated it again; hoping this time his body would get the message. He didn't care if it killed him, he was getting up today. "I just need to sit up."

Spock stood beside the bed, not taking any liberties, not helping Kirk, but merely observing.

Kirk moved slowly, not really willing to push his body after the way it had kept protesting at him yesterday.

Kirk's stomach growled. It had to be dinner time. Those sandwiches Scotty had brought him for lunch were long gone. He could do with a large meal.

Spock had raised an eyebrow.

"You appear to be in need of sustenance, Captain." Couldn't the Vulcan just say he wanted to eat?

"That would be affirmative, Commander." If it was possible, Spock's eyebrow climbed even higher. Yes, Kirk was capable of using big words. "Would you care to join me?"

"I would indeed, Captain."

Kirk nodded, running his fingers through his sleep mussed hair. God, he could not imagine how he must look.

"Just give me a couple minutes, Spock." He needed to go to the bathroom. For a couple reasons.

Kirk stood on shaky legs and made the short walk to the bathroom. It wasn't as long as he remembered it having been.

As he caught his reflection it the mirror he grimaced. He had been right about how he looked. He was a fright. His hair was sleep mussed and sticking up all over. His skin was sallow and looked sunken. There was a yellowish caste to it. His eyes were dark and heavy lidded. The circles under his eyes were so dark they looked like they were bruised. And that was only the damage he could see. Wow. No wonder Bones hadn't wanted to let him out of bed. If Kirk had been a doctor he wouldn't have allowed himself out of bed.

He rubbed some water over his face in an attempt to wake himself a little further.

He felt better than he had in days, but that wasn't to say that in any way felt _good_. He figured that eating might make him feel a little better.

He also debated the merits of a new uniform. He'd only been wearing this one for about twelve hours, but he had been sleeping in it for most of that time. He wasn't sure changing was worth the effort. He lowered his nose to his arm and performed a sniff test.

Hmmm. Smelled okay.

He'd do.

Kirk wandered out of the restroom and back into the bedroom. Spock was patiently waiting for him, hands behind his back. The picture of competent composed self-assurance. Kirk sighed.

Standing next to Spock he must look _quite_ a mess. An ignorant child playing at his teacher's profession. He didn't know what he was playing at.

He didn't look remotely like a captain. He looked like a kid that had gotten the shit beat of him.

Kirk shook his head. He needed to eat.

The Admiralty thought he could lead this ship. So maybe he could put his doubts aside for now.

Kirk sat on the bed as he looked for his boots. He pulled them on gracelessly and turned to Spock, "You ready?"

The science officer inclined his head.

Kirk stood too quickly, frustrated at his own thought process, and temporarily forgot that he was supposed to be moving slowly. He stumbled a bit as the room reeled.

Spock had his elbow almost immediately. "Captain?" Damn, the Vulcan looked, concerned.

"I'm fine, Spock." He gently pulled his elbow from the other man's grasp. "Just need to eat."

The Vulcan kept his eyes on Kirk's until he started to feel uncomfortable, but then he nodded. He preceded Kirk into the hallway, but never strayed far from Kirk's side. The Vulcan seemed to have set a deliberately slow pace, which suited Kirk just fine, but did make him suspicious.

Kirk was beginning to wonder if Bones had assigned him another babysitter.

Ha. As if the doctor needed any help.

Sometimes it felt like there were twenty of Bones and not just one with the way the man constantly got after Kirk for his health. But he supposed that was what came of living a best friend who was also a doctor.

Kirk had been trailing just slightly behind Spock, and hadn't noticed that they'd arrived at the officer's mess. It was a little late for dinner, but the room was still mostly full.

When Kirk walked in, all conversation stopped.

He ducked his head. Right, he was a stowaway. He shouldn't be eating here. A person had to earn their spot in the officer's mess.

He turned to leave, to beat a hasty retreat, and found himself walking into Spock, who'd clearly walked in right behind him. The Vulcan put out a hand to steady him and gave him a quizzical look, "Jim?"

Kirk didn't even want to explain. He just wanted to beat it out of there.

But then suddenly, the room exploded with noise. There was screaming and clapping and cheering and shouting, and--_God, was it all for him?_

_Oh Holy Jesus._

He was being clapped on the back, encircled by people he didn't know, all of whom seemed to want to touch him, and Kirk was overwhelmed and grateful…and overwhelmed. He was being congratulated for saving Earth and the Federation (_but that had been everyone, especially Spock had helped_), and for saving the ship (_but that had been Scotty_), and for surviving (_McCoy had done that)_, and Kirk _needed _to _sit down_.

But they didn't seem to want to listen. They didn't want to hear that he hadn't done it all on his own. They wanted to touch their hero, their savior and to draw strength and courage from him, and Kirk didn't know what to say. He'd never been known for his humility but really this wasn't about being humble. Everyone had helped. He couldn't take credit for all this.

He was seriously going to hyperventilate.

He shot a panicky look at Spock, who gently interposed himself between the crowd and the acting captain, explaining softly that Kirk needed to eat, and needed to rest, and gradually the crowd thinned out.

Kirk sent Spock his most grateful smile, and lowered himself gently into a chair. He must be more exhausted than he'd thought. Normally he loved being the center of attention, but today it seemed a bit…much.

Yeah, he'd done well, but he hadn't done nearly enough.

He wanted more than anything to put his head in his hands, but he noticed that everyone was still staring at him. So there would be no showing of his fatigue. Okay…okay. He took a deep breath and steadied himself.

He could do this.

He had had all sorts of command classes on not showing weakness in front of the crew. He straightened his spine, evened his shoulders and forced the tension from his body. He couldn't look the part as well as Spock, but Dammit, he could look the part.

When Spock had finished diverting the rest of the well-wishers, he joined Kirk at the table. "Captain, if you would like I could procure your meal for you."

It was Kirk's turn to raise an eyebrow. "You're offering to bring me food."

Spock nodded. "Affirmative."

_Weird_.

"Uh, okay, if you want to," Kirk replied, because he _really_ didn't feel like getting up right now. And he wouldn't want his legs to buckle in front of all these witnesses. "Can you get me some pasta?"

The Vulcan inclined his head and departed in the direction of the replicators.

What Kirk really wanted was a cheeseburger, but he wasn't sure his stomach would go for it at the moment. He knew from experience that pasta was the only way to go if he'd been on too much medication, or if he hadn't eaten for too long.

Kirk was already exhausted. And he hadn't even eaten yet. The walk here had kind of done him in. But he kept his head up, as he didn't want to cause a problem with morale.

Spock returned relatively quickly bearing two trays. There was the pasta with red sauce for Kirk, and an assortment of steamed vegetables for Spock. They did not look especially appetizing.

Right, vegetarians. Check.

Kirk experienced a second of gratitude for not having been born Vulcan, but then immediately regretted it. That kind of thing was inappropriate given how many Vulcans were left.

He tucked into his food, not sure of what to say to Spock.

The Vulcan though, seemed to be having no such problems. After an uncomfortable period of silence, in which the Vulcan studied him, Spock asked permission to voice a question.

"Go ahead, Spock."

"I am curious about your proficiency in rock climbing, Captain. Your records indicate you were raised in Iowa, which in my understanding, is not a state gifted in large geological formations."

"It's not known for its mountains, no, Commander," he responded.

Damn, Kirk thought. He should have seen this coming. It would have given him more time to formulate an answer.

"May I inquire as to where and how you gained your proficiency, sir?" Spock continued.

Yeah, that was going to be a hard one to dodge. He stared hard at his food, not making eye contract with the Science officer. "I was off planet for a while when I was about fourteen, visiting my mom's family. I learned there. And yeah, there were mountains there."

_Oh yes, he'd learned to climb on Tarsus. He'd had to. And there hadn't been any pulleys or safety nets. You went up and down the cliffs with anything you wanted to carry in your mouth or you starved or you got shot. There was only one way up and one way down, and that was the cliff face. Kirk had gotten very good, very fast. He'd had more than just himself to care for. _

He'd hoped that he'd given Spock enough information to make the Vulcan back off, but Spock was still staring at him with interest. He could see the other man wanted more detail. "It was a colony world, Spock. There were a lot of cliffs and mountains. Sometimes we had to make due. Climbing was a necessary skill if you wanted to be able reach the town from the beach without going ten miles around."

And if you went ten miles around, you got caught. And then you died.

And Kirk had never gone to town. Not after that first day. It came back to him then…the famine…_the fear_…the massacre.

Kirk shook himself.

Damn. Kirk hadn't thought of Tarsus in …months. Bones had been good for helping him alleviate the nightmares. Aside from his M.D., Bones had a PhD in Psychiatry, most of which Kirk thought was crap. But that was okay, because Bones thought some of it was crap, too. But the doctor did know how to listen, and when to push, and when to shut the hell up.

Kirk was grateful for all three skills.

Bones didn't know any specifics of Tarsus, but he did know it happened. And that Kirk had been there. And Kirk trusted him to _never _tell. He hadn't told McCoy that he was one of only nine survivors that could identify Kodos.

_Kodos_.

There was name he reviled even more than that of Nero.

But it was the same thing. Both men were responsible for genocide. And while Nero had killed billions more than Kodos, he'd had the decency to do it quickly. While Kodos had lined up his victims and allowed some twisted version of eugenics to determine who would live and who would die.

Kirk didn't suppose the differences between the two men mattered. He'd see them both in his dreams for the rest of his life.

He shook himself again, trying to remove himself from the reverie. It wasn't working. He must have been silent for some time, because Spock was looking at him curiously.

Kirk gritted his teeth; he was ready to be _done_ with this subject. God, he had a headache. He got one every time he thought of Tarsus. He rubbed his eyes.

This one was rapidly becoming a migraine.

It wasn't Spock's fault, though, he couldn't have known.

The Vulcan's expression was quickly changing to one of concern.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Spock, what did you ask me?" he said. He hoped his voice sounded steady.

"I inquired as to whether you have had time to practice since your return to Earth," the Vulcan sounded patient, seemingly unconcerned by Kirk's low responsivity.

"Uh, I do it sometimes, to relax or to work out. Not often," Kirk conceded. He almost never climbed. When he wanted emotional release he ran.

Or he had sex.

But mostly, he ran.

Ever since he was little, he had loved the exhilaration of wind in his hair.

Spock nodded. Kirk studied his food, suddenly not hungry. But he never wasted food, not after the famine. He closed his mind to his memories and tucked in in earnest.

Spock, it seemed had not quite finished with his queries about Kirk's outdoor hobbies. "Did you find it difficult to scale ice as compared to rock, Jim?"

_Was the Vulcan trying to make small talk? What the hell? Where were these questions coming from?  
_

"Um no, not really, Spock." He hadn't. "Once you get used to it, it's all the same. Granted you don't have to worry about getting frostbite from climbing rocks."

Spock raised an eyebrow, not speaking. Either he didn't completely believe Kirk or he thought Kirk was holding something back. Well, Kirk wasn't about to tell him, not yet. No one knew the whole truth about his past, and it was going to stay that way for now.

He always figured he'd tell Bones, and he was sure that older Spock already knew. The other Kirk had probably told him. Jim didn't figure there was any way it could have just come up in the course of a mission or something. So maybe someday, he'd tell this Spock.

But today was not that day.

This conversation was starting to feel like their chess match. A formulaic investigation of Kirk's defenses. He bet the Vulcan didn't mean it that way, but it was time for Kirk to go on the offensive. He wanted to shift the conversation away from himself.

But he was afraid to ask Spock any questions about Vulcan. Or his mother.

But maybe that was what Spock needed.

Well, he'd never been known for thinking before he acted, might as well not start now.

"Tell me about your mom," he said.

* * *

Please review. I write faster when I get feedback.

AN: I know this has been terribly fluffy lately, but I have plans for angst in the next chapter. If you have suggestions, I'd be willing to listen to them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer.** In the words of Barlett:"I have gathered a posy of other men's flowers and nothing but the thread that binds them is mine own." I think that's clear enough.

AN: It's short. Sorry.

* * *

"Tell me about your mom," Kirk had said.

Spock actually dropped his fork.

Wow.

Kirk really hoped he wasn't about to get his ass beat. Sarek wasn't in the room to save him this time.

The first officer's face was outwardly composed but throught the Vulcan's dark brown eyes, Kirk could see the raging vortex hidden just beneath the surface calm.

Shit. Abandon ship.

Damn. They'd been doing so well.

Trust himself to fuck it up. Again.

He backpedaled hastily, standing up, eager to be out of the explosive Vulcan's reach. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't' mean to offend you or anything…I was just curious." He moved to step away from the table, and his legs voiced a protest at the speed of his movement.

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. Kirk didn't know what that meant.

As he struggled to quell their shaking, Spock caught him by the arm. "Jim."

Kirk paused. If the Vulcan wanted to restrain him, then Kirk wouldn't be able to run no matter how much he wanted to.

"Jim, your query was simply…unexpected. I am not on the verge of losing control."

Kirk nodded. "Good to know."

"May I inquire as to why the captain wants to learn about my mother?" Spock demanded. He still had not released Kirk's wrist.

Kirk sat back down and Spock let him go. "I dunno, Spock. I'm just curious. You don't meet too many humans who marry Vulcans. I just figure she must have been…extraordinary."

There was more to it that Kirk couldn't voice. Right now, he wanted to not be the captain. He wanted the ability to be tired, no, to be exhausted, and to collapse into the arms of someone who would hold him and tell him that it had all been a nightmare. That there weren't really six billion Vulcans dead and thousands of humans, many of whom had been his friends. Right now, Kirk just wanted to listen to someone tell him a good story. He wanted to hear about a woman who had moved Heaven and Earth for the child she adored.

He wanted to know what that kind of unconditional love had felt like. Because he himself had never known.

His mother had never exactly been mean to him, she just had never been home. And Frank had hated him. Hence the being sent to Tarsus.

So James Kirk had raised himself, and comforted himself when he was lonely and nursed himself when he was sick.

And right now, he just wanted to lose himself in someone else's story.

Spock studied him a long time, seeming to evaluate the truthfulness of Kirk's answer. Eventually he nodded.

"She was extraordinary."

Kirk smiled. He nodded. Somehow he was not surprised.

Spock continued talking for a long time. His mother's name was Amanda Grayson. She had been a school teacher before she married Sarek. Kirk wondered how they had met, but Spock did not say. The first officer kept his tone composed and calm but Kirk could see the storm that was rising at the edges of the Vulcan's eyes, so he steered the conversation away from any subject which might have brought up extremely emotional memories, and Spock kept to topics that were decidedly non-emotional in nature.

Despite it all, Kirk was surprised at how much the half Vulcan was actually sharing with him. He hadn't expected anything near this much. He wondered if the science officer was beginning to trust him, or if the man merely needed to talk. He supposed it didn't matter much, as the conversation suited both their purposes. He felt himself drifting, lost in the quiet gentle murmur of the Vulcan's voice, imagining the wonder of the woman that had been Amanda Grayson. She must have been remarkable indeed.

It was several minutes later, when Kirk looked up to find that Spock had finished speaking. Kirk was surprised; when had that happened? Oh well, the Vulcan was intent upon his vegetables and Kirk could see that the science officer's eyes were suspiciously shiny.

Kirk decided it was a good time to be intent upon his pasta. He dug in, not once looking again at his first officer. If the Vulcan needed privacy, then Kirk was damn well going to give it to him.

They ate in silence for some time. Neither man wanting, or knowing how, to break the silence. Eventually, Spock voiced the question that Kirk should have known was coming. "Will you tell me of your mother, Jim?"

Kirk had never told anyone anything about his mother. He knew Bones might have guessed though. Kirk had never once gone back to Iowa for the holidays while they'd been at the Academy. Bones hadn't gone anywhere either. They stayed in, and drank themselves into oblivion.

But Kirk didn't want to talk about any of that with Spock. Fuck. He'd somehow gotten the topic of conversation off of Tarsus and onto his mother. He just couldn't win.

Figured. It had been that kind of day.

Spock had called him "Jim" though. With no prompting from himself. That was good.

It was a start, at least.

He still had to answer the Vulcan, and he still didn't know what to say. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "My mom…she was just kinda quiet. Never talked much. She was off planet a lot." He wasn't saying more than that.

Kirk studied his meatballs in slightly greater detail. Maybe if he stuffed a few more in his mouth, he'd been able to wave off the discussion on account of being hygienically sensitive? He didn't think it would be polite to talk to a Vulcan while chewing meat open mouthed. But Spock didn't ask him anything else. He merely nodded and resumed eating his vegetables. This time the silence between them was not as comfortable, but Kirk figured that was mostly his own fault.

* * *

Please read and review. I could use it. Grief personifies in many ways, and mine has been showing up as lethary, fatigue and apathy. The times when I've been on, I've only been wanting to read, not to write. There will be more soon. I promise.

Those of you reading Haven, who've sent me encouraging messages this week, thanks.

**DancingintheSunlight**...Your account doesn't accept my PM's. I'd love to chat with you, but I don't know how to get in touch with you.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer.** In the words of Barlett:"I have gathered a posy of other men's flowers and nothing but the thread that binds them is mine own." I think that's clear enough.

AN: This chapter's a bit longer than last time, but it's completely unbeta'd. Sorry.

* * *

The silence between them was tense, and Jim was willing to do just about anything to make it stop. Maybe he should have told the Vulcan about his home life.

_No_.

They were not friends. _Not yet_. And while older Spock had said there was going to be something _epic_ there, Kirk just couldn't bring himself to tell this Spock about his past. Not now. _Maybe someday_. But God only knew if they were even going to stay together, on this ship. Jim was supposed to be the captain. But he was supposed to be the captain ten years from now. And he was supposed to know his father. And Vulcan was supposed to _exist_.

With Kirk's luck, he knew he still might get court marshaled when he got home.

Everything was different.

_Fuck Nero_.

All that Spock had wanted was an exchange in kind. But Kirk couldn't give it to him, because he didn't know how. He hadn't grown up as Spock had. He hadn't grown up…loved.

Wow. He'd never thought of it in those words before. That sucked.

Spock's stories about his mother had been beautiful and gripping and dripping with love despite the Vulcan's lack of emotion. Kirk didn't have that. He'd never had it. Stuff with his mom had been okay when he was really little, but he'd always looked like his father. He'd always reminded her of how much she'd lost. He'd always thought of himself as the albatross of the ancient mariner. As he'd gotten older, she'd looked at him less and less. By the time he was eight, he couldn't remember the last time she'd looked him the eye. She stared into the middle distance when he spoke, always looking over his shoulder.

He tried everything to get her to look at him again. He tried perfection. Perfect grades in school, perfect scores on tests, investing in every activity available. He'd learned to play chess because he'd heard that his father had liked it. But nothing drew her back to him. When he was nine, she remarried. And she still wouldn't look at him. But his step-father did, and he had found that reassuring …for a while. But then later….

He'd almost been relieved when they'd shipped him off to Tarsus.

When he got home he tried rebellion. Any attention was preferable to being treated like he was non-existent. But she still wouldn't look at him.

But Kirk didn't feel that he could have shared any of that with Spock. He'd only shared the barest details with Bones. It was too personal…too depressing. No one on this ship needed any _more_ bad news.

He vaguely wondered what it would have been like…growing up like Spock had. With a parent you'd risk your life, your whole ship, to save.

Well, maybe he could live vicariously through Spock. Now that was a weird thought. He was envious of the emotions shown to a Vulcan.

_God, he had a headache. _

He lowered his head to his hands. Right now he didn't care who saw him.

"Captain," the first officer's concern was evident, but his voice was slightly terser than it had been several moments ago. "Should I page Dr. McCoy?"

"No, I'm fine." Without raising his head, Kirk held up a hand to forestall the protest that likely was coming. "I'll go down there later, anyway, okay?" Yeah, he was so going down to see Bones for some medicinal bourbon later.

Spock nodded as Kirk continued. "I thought you might want to spend some time on your own. You don't have to baby-sit me."

Spock cocked his head to the side but made no other reply.

"I'm just saying, I've been in your quarters, like, all day, Spock. If you need have some private time…you know… with anyone, I can get out of your hair for a while."

"Out of my hair?" Spock repeated, raising an eyebrow. Kirk wondered if that eyebrow could climb any higher than it already had.

Kirk ran a hand through his own hair. He was just freaking frustrated right now. He needed to be alone. "It's a colloquialism, Spock, you know, if you want me to disappear for a while. If there's anyone you might want to meet with." _God, how obvious was he going to have to be?_ "You remember…like earlier when you wanted me to disappear for a long while." Kirk smirked as he spoke, allowing the familiar veneer of arrogance to hide the vulnerability he was feeling.

"Are you implying that I should put you off the ship in order to gain private time with Lieutenant Uhura?" It turned out that the eyebrow could go higher, in fact.

"Well I'd prefer you didn't put me off the ship, but yeah, that's what I was implying. I can give you a couple hours, or I can spend the night in sickbay if you like."

"That will not be necessary, captain. But I thank you for the offer." Well, that was…interesting. Kirk decided, for once in his life, to be respectful and not to speculate.

"Well, all the same, if you want some time alone, it's cool. I can entertain myself for a while."

Spock nodded, not saying anything.

Kirk could see that the Vulcan was still displeased over his lack of sharing.

Well, maybe someday.

But it wasn't the kind of story that you shared. It wasn't one of those uplifting stories. It wasn't going to make the day better. Though it wasn't like anything could make it all that much worse.

Kirk rose to feet, feeling unsteady again.

The short conversation had so exhausted him mentally that he felt much the same as he had on the bridge before Spock had removed him.

"Look, I'll see you later, okay."

Spock nodded again. "You will be returning to my quarters to rest." It came out more like an order than a question. Kirk was tempted to remind the science officer which one of them was currently in command, but he just sighed and let it go.

Mindful of the Vulcan's eyes on his back, Kirk made his way out of the officers' mess, endeavoring not to limp as he walked.

He really needed a drink.

He hadn't shared much with the Vulcan, but he'd shared more than he shared with most. He wondered what it was about the man that made him want to open up. Maybe it was the mind-meld with the other Spock. That man had been so ….relieved to see him. Like Jim just being there would make it all right. That somehow despite the impossible situation before them, any stupid impossible plan could succeed.

It made Kirk wonder what kind of hijinks the other Kirk had gotten up to.

He must have pulled some wicked crazy schemes for Spock to be so certain they could make it out okay.

Kirk wondered if that other man had hacked the Kobyashi Maru.

He'd have to ask the older Spock.

The warmth that emanated from the other man's brain had been intoxicating. And Kirk wondered how the other Kirk had ever gotten to a point where he'd trust someone enough to open up that much, to be the friend that man remembered.

He sighed.

That other Jim Kirk was going to be a hell of a legacy to live up to.

Kirk was so lost in thought that he didn't notice where he was going until he smacked into someone rushing in the other direction.

He found himself flat on his backside looking at the startled face of Ensign Chekov whose bright eyes were wide with mortification at having run his captain down.

Kirk fought to suppress a groan.

_Shit. Ow._

That had hurt. He'd gotten the wind completely knocked out of him. Why the hell _had_ that happened? He knew how to take a fall; he'd had extensive training on it. What was wrong with his body? He was having a fuckwithall of a day.

He sucked in a gasping breath. "Mr. Chekov. In a bit of a hurry?"

He hoped he hadn't done any damage to his ribs. Bones would fucking _kill_ him. And there were only so many hyposprays a man could take in a day.

"Keptan, I am wery sorry, sir. I vas not seeing you." The younger man extended a hand to help him up.

Kirk grasped it and allowed the Russian to pull up. Kirk fought to get his breath back. "It's all right, Ensign, no harm done."

His lie was revealed in the tell-tale gasping of his breath. _Stupid body_.

The ensign did not look reassured; he hung his head as he whispered, "I am wery sorry, sir."

Kirk patted the boy's shoulder. "I said it was alright. Where were you rushing off to?"

He was honestly just curious. There weren't many places you needed to run to on a starship, when there wasn't an emergency going on.

Chekov, if anything, looked even more abashed by his question.

"I was going to zhe mess, Keptan. I vanted to eat before zhey closed, sir." Ah, that made sense then. Well, Kirk could allay those particular fears.

"They're still serving, Mr. Chekov. Don't worry. I just left there."

The Russian did look relieved.

"And if they have stopped serving when you get there, just head on down to engineering, and tell Mr. Scott that I asked that he fix you up with some sandwiches."

The kid cocked his head at that comment. "Zhey is having sandwiches in engineering?"

Kirk gave a tired smile. "Yeah, it's a long story."

Chekov nodded. He was giving Kirk a look that indicated that he wasn't sure if he might have knocked the sense out of the captain.

"Keptan, are you are injured, sir?"

"What, from the fall…no, no, I'm fine. It's ok, Chekov," Kirk smiled and tried desperately to reassure his navigator. He liked the boy's boundless energy. It was infectious.

The kid still looked doubtful. "You vere injured, before. Doctor McCoy said you vere off duty."

Now the ensign actually sounded suspicious. Well it wasn't like Kirk had broken out of sickbay or anything. He'd been released. Well, actually, he wasn't sure if he'd been released from bed rest in Spock's cabin, but still…released. Sort of.

"I am off duty, ensign. I just went to eat."

"Yes, Keptan. I am glad you vere not badly hurt, sir."

"Me, too, Ensign. Me, too."

"Vell, if you vill excuse me, sir…" The boy looked anxious to eat.

"Dismissed, Mr. Chekov. Just go a little slower, this time." Kirk laughed as he said it.

The boy tossed him a tentative smile and continued on his way.

After a moment though, Kirk called him back. "Chekov."

The kid whirled, looking slightly apprehensive. "Da, Keptan?"

"I just wanted to tell that your actions the other day were exemplary." Kirk was damn well going to try and tell every member of the crew how proud of them he was, just in case he didn't get another chance.

Chekov beamed a smile so bright that Kirk could feel it from where he was standing. He looked slightly…taken aback.

He nodded at Kirk. "I am glad zhat I vas serving on zhis ship, Keptan. I am also glad zhat you vere here. Ve vere wery lucky to have you. Sir."

It was Kirk's turn to be taken aback.

He ducked his head, feeling much younger than he was. He somehow felt like it would be bad manners to dodge the Russian's heartfelt praise. Very quietly, he said, "Thank you, Pavel."

The Russian nodded, and headed off for the mess.

Very interesting.

He made his way through the decks, just kind of meandering at will. There were repairs on-going in every part of the ship. Kirk just kind of followed his feet from deck to deck. Any place he observed repair work, he offered to help. He was pretty sure that his little fall had reinjured at least one of his ribs, so since Bones was gonna kill him anyway, he decided he might as well go all in.

He helped two yeomen who were moving aside a fractured panel, intent on doing some rewiring to the air circulation panels. He made eye contact with each of them, talking to both of them in turn. One of them had family in the Antaries sector and was quite homesick. His name was Robert Jerkins. The other, a woman raised on the Mars colonies was quite worried about her sister, who'd been stationed on the _Farragut_. Kirk's guy twisted when he heard that statement. Gaila had been stationed on the _Farragut_ as well.

Nearly his whole graduating class was just….

_Gone_.

They were all gone.

Kirk's body gave a shudder and he fought to keep his knees from giving out.

God, why hadn't it occurred to him before?

The entire secondary fleet…was just gone.

Had he been alone, he would have been hyperventilating. But not here. Not in public.

He swallowed his grief back down, and turned his face to the wall as he composed himself. God, what was he supposed to say?

He should say something.

Something remarkable, compassionate, and …helpful.

But he had…nothing.

He could not find words.

And vaguely he wondered, if the other him would have been able to make a great speech about freedom and sacrifice and ….

He just couldn't. He absolutely nothing to offer her. Nothing would make it better at all. So he looked her in the eyes, and he said, "I'm sorry."

She blinked pain-filled eyes at him, and nodded. "Thank you, Captain."

The exchange sobered him. Kirk said little as he helped the two replace the panel. When it became clear that they had no further need of him, Kirk moved off to see about helping anyone else.

As he moved through the Enterprise, he was struck again by her beauty. Even now, wounded as she was, he was in love with her. And he could not believe that she was his. He wondered, vaguely, if she could love him back.

Realizing that he was thinking of his ship as he would a lover, actually, as he had never thought of a lover (as something more than a one night stand), he slapped himself mentally.

God, he needed some more sleep.

The ache in the back of his lungs had begun to intensify. He needed to make his way to sickbay.

But he could go there by way of engineering. He ought to go and check on Scotty's progress with the impulse engines.

Despite his melancholy, Kirk smiled at thought of the engineer.

Plus maybe there would be some way he could help there. That would keep him from thinking.

About anything.

And right now, Kirk didn't want to think.

Scotty wasn't there when Kirk arrived, but some of the Scotsman's team were and they seemed glad of the idea of an extra pair of hands.

Kirk had focused in tactics, but he could hold his own in engineering, so he threw himself into the work with reckless abandon.

He was one of the few people he knew who _liked_ to get his hands dirty.

_Must be all that time spent as a juvenile offender_.

He worked quietly, letting his mind go, just focusing on the task at hand.

Rewiring panels was…easy…rhythmic. And slowly Kirk fell into a kind of moving meditation. Not thinking, just doing.

He was surprised, then, when someone appeared at his elbow with a cup of coffee.

"Huh, what's this?" He hadn't ordered anything. In fact, he hadn't really even been aware of himself.

"You've been here for hours, sir. I thought you might be thirsty."

Oh. Right. Wait—hours?

What time was it?

He accepted the coffee gratefully and looked around to see that none of the engineers he'd started with were still on duty. He hadn't even noticed that they'd left.

Oops.

He took a sip of the coffee, hesitantly. He hated it cold. But it wasn't cold. It was boiling hot and really strong. It was also black.

It was perfect.

He beamed at the crewman.

"Thank you, this is perfect, crewman…."

"Phillips, sir. Jason Phillips." The crewman beamed at his captain's praise.

"Mr. Phillips," Kirk acknowledged. "You make a mean cup of coffee."

"Thank you, sir. That's how I drink it. I took a gamble on it," said Phillips.

"You gamble well." Kirk responded with a smile. "Remind me not to play poker against you."

Phillips laughed. "Indeed, sir."

Kirk stretched, desperate to work the kinks out of his back. He was only just becoming aware of how many he had after his hours scrunched up beneath the console. His lungs still twinged a bit.

Damn.

That still meant sickbay.

He loved Bones, he really did. But he _hated_ sickbay. He hated all doctors. Well except Bones. And M'benga wasn't so bad either.

Mabye he could make his way down there.

It might not be so bad.

Bones was going to curse at him.

Then again, listening to Bones "cuss" was often the equivalent of a whole lesson's worth of xenolinguistics and xenobiology rolled into one. Some of the things Bones cussed were not anatomically possible.

Well, as far as Kirk knew, anyway.

_Might be entertaining. _

Kirk smirked.

Yeah, he could go to sickbay.

It wasn't like Bones was gonna make him sleep there.

As it turned out, he was further delayed in getting to sickbay. The journey took him through crew quarters and he was amazed at how many people lived on this ship.

Well right now, especially.

His crew were doubling up to make room for their Vulcan passengers, some even sleeping two to a bed, and Kirk was absolutely amazed at the compassion of his crew.

Definitely. Best ship in the fleet.

He was glad that he was serving on this ship. Even if it might be only for a little while.

Kirk witnessed quite a few displays of public affection while he was on his walk, but he didn't' mention any of them. He decided to allow his crew what comfort they could draw from each other.

He'd always thought that rule was stupid anyway.

He came across several Vulcans but he said little to them. He greeted them in passing, but was struck again by the immensity of how unprepared he was for this job.

There were just no words adequate to express the feelings one had in the wake of such a tragedy.

That reminded Kirk, Spock had said that several of the Vulcans had collapsed due to stress and McCoy was keeping them in sickbay for observation.

He would have to check on that situation when they he got there.

* * *

Review if you want. Or not. It is after all, up to you.

AN: 400 reviews. Wow. I've been _totally overwhelmed_ by how much people like this story. It's weird you know? For those of you that have asked about writing from Spock or McCoy's POV, I dunno, I will have to think about it. I did that with NoWin, and it seriously burned me out and gave me writer's block for two months, and I'm only now feeling like I can write on it again, so I will have to think about it.

Also...Because this has come up a few times. I write Kirk and Spock as I understand them. I love the new movie but I've loved TOS for a lot longer. Kirk, Spock and McCoy have incredible and wonderful interactions in that series. And I'm writing this to get them from nufilm to TOS style of relationship. I honestly feel that Spock is over his pissyness by the end of the film, and that Kirk has matured. Now I just want to get them to be friends. So, yes, if you've seen only the film, they'll be out of character. That's just the way it's going to be. If you'd like it another way, then I strongly encourage you to write your own fiction. It's how I started. Make them your own. This set...is mine (well, not financially-I've established that. :) )


	11. Chapter 11

Still not mine.

Mild warning for language.

* * *

Kirk meant to go straight to sickbay. He really did. He just... didn't. He'd stopped somewhere for more coffee. And then he decided that he needed to check on things on the bridge. He'd go on down to see Bones eventually. Really, he would.

He just... had other stuff to do right now.

He had ordered pretty much the whole primary bridge crew to get out and get some rest, so he didn't know a great many of the people on duty. It was gamma shift after all. But they snapped to attention when he entered, all of them rising from their seats. That was going to have to stop. What a waste of efficiency. He waved them back to their seats. He didn't have the heart to chastise anyone right now. Especially not for doing their duty.

Kirk noted walking in that it seemed very cold in here. He wondered why that was as he looked around. The bridge looked much the same as it had when he'd left it two days ago. The sight of the cracks running above the viewscreen pulled at his heart a little bit. He remembered Pike telling to Spock to be careful with her. She had been brand new. Had been, being the important words in that thought.

Pike was damn well gonna kill him for what he'd done to the ship.

Well, she could be repaired, and parts could be replaced. Earth could not be replaced, so he guessed it was a small sacrifice to make. Still he didn't like to see any ship in this condition. It was just kind of sad. But she could still fly.

And maybe they could all get her more space worthy before they got home.

Kirk took a seat in his chair and called up his reports.

Oh God there had to be hundreds of them. Maybe he could let some of them go and read them later? Maybe he could read some of them in bed? He thought as his tired body protested at the sheer weight to the numbers before him.

No. He was captain now. He had to start setting an example. For himself, if nobody else.

Kirk sighed and started reading.

There was a lot of shit going on.

The ship was badly wounded. He'd known that. But the reports made it real. He really needed to contact the fleet again. They'd lost seven ships. Seven ships worth of people. Of the four thousand people in what would have been his graduating class, he estimated that no more than four hundred had survived. Less than one out of every ten. He hadn't really thought of it before now. Kirk hadn't had time.

It was staggering.

He slumped back in his chair, as his grief overwhelmed him. Lifting a hand to his face, he covered his eyes with his palm as he dropped his head, as the faces of his friends swam before his eyes.

_Gaila...._

God.

She'd been assigned to the _Farragut_, hadn't she.

And all his self defense students. The chess club. The xeno-linguistics club. He just could not imagine how many people he'd lost.

Kirk cursed aloud. His current bridge crew must have known he needed space because they were ignoring him. That was good. He made a note to self. Commendations for the gamma shift bridge crew.

Kirk sucked in a shuddering breath as he fought to control himself. There would be time for tears later. Time for grief later. Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting _this _ship home in one piece. Getting this _crew _home in one piece. _These four hundred were safe_. And it was his responsibility to keep them that way.

Kirk cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. And turned back to his reports, with his face impassive. These people mattered, therefore these reports mattered.

He had been in the command track long enough to know that there were obscene amounts of information for which the captain was responsible. He just hadn't realized it was this much. He had more than three hundred reports waiting for him to read and authorize. And he'd only been off duty for the better part of a day. Sighed, he resolved that he might as well make a start.

A long time later, he realized his vision was blurring at the edges again. And he wasn't entirely sure what he'd read on the last report. He sighed, closing the file. He'd have to finish later. Kirk stretched, his bones popping as he did so, and was pleased to note that fewer places on his body protested the movement than had the last time he'd attempted stretching. That was good.

As he reached the apex of his stretch, he stood, allowing his legs to straighten and his arms to raise up above his head. His vision faded black at the edges and he stumbled. Kirk caught himself on the edge of the chair before he fell, and he lowered himself slowly to his seat. His vision hadn't fully cleared. _What the _fuck _was wrong with him_?

"Sir?" Someone was at his side. Through his blurry eyes, Kirk could make out a red shirt. But he didn't recognize the voice. He could feel the hand on his elbow though.

"Bridge to sickbay." It was the voice at his elbow again.

"McCoy here." Oh shit, he was gonna be in for it. Bones was gonna freaking kill him. He was supposed to be off duty. And he was supposed to not be injured.

"Doctor I think you'd better get up here," replied the red shirted voice that Kirk did not know.

"On my way." Kirk could tell from Bones's tone that the doctor had a pretty good idea whose medical needs had called him to the bridge.

Kirk's vision had finally cleared, and he made a move to stand again. But this time the red shirt restrained him, using one hand on Kirk's shoulder to gently push him back into the command chair. "Sir, I think you should remain seated right now. You've gone very pale for a human."

Well, it _was_ a very comfortable chair.

Kirk hesitated. He didn't ever like being pushed around. "I'm fine," he said as he checked the sleeve for the rank of the person beside him. _Ensign_. Blue hand. _Andorian_. Huh. He didn't know this person. He settled for just calling the person by his title. "I'm fine...Ensign" He made another move to stand, only to be gently restrained by the ensign again.

"Sir, I must insist you remain seated. You have turned a most unusual shade of color for a human. Please captain."

It was the 'please' that did it. Kirk sighed and gave up. He'd wait for Bones.

He was nodding, nearly asleep when Bones came in, striding straight up to the command chair, without even stopping to look around.

"Dammit Jim, I took you off duty." Yeah, Bones was pissed, alright.

"I just wanted to check on everybody, Bones."

"Yeah, sure you did, Kid, but what part of 'off duty' did your infant mind fail to understand?"

"I only stopped in a for a moment, Bones, I was just about to leave." Kirk looked around the bridge crew, daring any one of them to reveal his lie about the length of time he'd bee up here.

McCoy followed his gaze. "Yeah, sure you were." He harrumphed in a way that made it clear he'd known Kirk for too long to fall for any of innocent act that he was getting right now.

"Doctor," the Andorian interjected, "He was about to leave. The captain attempted to stand and stumbled. I thought it would be wise to call you."

McCoy's eyes roamed up and down the Andorian as if to indicate that he knew the ensign was covering for Kirk, but finally he yielded. "You were wise to call me. I need to take the captain to sickbay. Jim, you finished here?" The final word was delivered with a menace that left no doubt about the epic shit that Kirk would be in, if he did not leave the bridge this minute.

He looked up at his friend's scowling face. "Yeah, I'm good, Bones."

The sound that escaped McCoy's mouth might have been a growl. One of the red shirts standing near them actually stepped back a foot or two.

Bones did allow Kirk to stand and walk on his own, but he stayed near enough that he could have grabbed Kirk's elbow at any second. Kirk recoiled at the help while secretly reveling in it. McCoy only got this angry because he cared about his friend.

Bones wasn't afraid to tell anyone that they were being stupid. It was something that Kirk loved about him. Unfortunately Kirk was the person who most frequently got yelled at for said stupidity. But usually Bones did it in private, not out in the open.

Bones did care.

It was kinda ...nice.

By the time they reached the darkened sickbay, one of Bones's eyebrows was twitching. It looked like the effort maintained in keeping himself from screaming at Kirk had cost him just about all of his control. Kirk decided not to push him. He climbed up on an empty bio-bed without so much as a word of protest.

Bones raised an eyebrow. Surely this new compliant behavior was suspicious to the doctor, come to think of it. Oh well. It wasn't like he didn't need to get checked out. He wanted to know what the fuck was wrong with himself. Why he wasn't healing, and how in the hell a seventeen year old Russian could run him down.

Kirk waiting silently as Bones ran a bio-bed scan. And then he waited patiently as Bones ran a medical tri-corder scan. And then he waited patiently some more as Bones prepared and administered a few hyposprays.

He was slightly unnerved at how little Bones was talking to him. Bones was never this quiet. Either the doctor was preoccupied or he was super-pissed. Neither would be good.

Bones finally put down the tri-corder and sighed at Kirk. "Your rib, Jim? You wanna tell me about that?"

So Kirk explained. He told all about dinner with Spock and being run down by Chekov, at which Bones cocked an eyebrow. Bones could beat even Spock at eyebrow raising.

And because Bones still wasn't saying anything, Kirk told him about going to the bridge. He didn't mention about helping in engineering. What Bones didn't know and couldn't find out, wouldn't hurt him. And then, because he'd started talking, and didn't think he could stop now if he wanted to, Kirk told McCoy all about the realizations he'd had on the bridge. All the other cadets. All the other crews. Captains. Students. Friends. Gaila.

Kirk didn't know for how long he'd been talking when his voice finally broke. He hadn't noticed McCoy remove his shirt and fix his ribs...again. But he came back to himself to find himself shirtless, and crying, McCoy's hands on his shoulders, saying "I know, Jim, I know."

Kirk shut his eyes against the enormity of it all. He was more tired now, than he'd been two days ago. That had been physical exhaustion. This was emotional. It was far worse.

When he had been silent for a little while, McCoy sighed and said, "Come on, Jim, I'll walk you back to bed." No yelling, no lecture. Just "I'll walk you back to bed." It was what being a friend was all about it, wasn't it?"

* * *

So...life has been...yeah, there aren't words for how bad life has been. But here is an update for you, and I hope you like it. Please review.


	12. Chapter 12

Still not mine.

Warning for language, and dark subject matter. It's mild but its present. I don't normally plan this fic, I just kind of sit down and let it flow, and this was where it went. I swear I had no control over it.

* * *

For once, Kirk didn't pull away when McCoy grabbed his elbow. Bones took it gently and helped Kirk force his exhausted limbs through the now dirty sleeves of the black shirt. He'd have to change it before he went back to bed.

Shit. He was going back to Spock's bed.

That meant he ought to shower also. He doubted that the pristine Vulcan would want any mess introduced into his rooms. Or his bed. Especially his bed. People had a way of being funny about that kind of thing.

Bones led Kirk gently out the door and into the hall. The doctor still wasn't yelling at him. It was...refreshing. But it was weird.

"Bones," Kirk knew he should not be asking, "What's wrong? Why're you so quiet?"

McCoy grunted, but didn't respond immediately. Then he sighed. Kirk wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he thought he felt the doctor's fingers tighten around his arm.

"You've got a fever, Jim, a pretty high one. And you aren't healing. And I think there might still be some Hengrauggi venom in your blood stream. It would explain some of your symptoms." McCoy sighed again. "But not all of them. I think some of it might just be exhaustion or allergies." The doctor's accent was bleeding thick into his pronunciation, slurring his vowels and softening his consonants. Kirk usually only heard the accent this thick when the doctor was drunk. Either Bones was exhausted, also, or he was really, really frustrated. Kirk felt a twinge of guilt as he wondered when his friend had last slept. He'd have to make sure Bones went back to bed soon.

McCoy finished his synopsis with another sigh, "Don't take this the wrong way, Jim, but your body is damned annoying sometimes."

Kirk smile at his friend. "I know, Bones, I know. I'm sorry." He was. He'd had reason to wish he had a better immune system before now. Numb tongue, much?

Fuck Tarsus. And fuck subspace radiation for that matter.

No one that had read his case history was completely sure, but the two leading theories about why he'd developed...wonky, were that either he'd been exposed to too much radiation immediately after his premature birth, or that he'd gotten one too many infections from the strange mutated bacteria that had bloomed on Tarsus.

Some days Jim hated his life.

But really, thinking about it, he wasn't sure if today was one of them. He ought to think about it more.

God, had his legs always weighed this much?

He stumbled again, which set McCoy to swearing, "Dammit Jim! Watch where you're putting your feet for crying out loud!" The doctor shifted his grip from Kirk's elbow to under Kirk's opposite armpit.

Kirk made a mild noise of protest at this increase in visibility of weakness, and McCoy hissed at him not to be an infant.

It made Kirk smile. That was Bones all right.

But the smile slid off his face as he processed his friend's words. "Bones, what if it is the venom? Can it hurt me?" Cause, really, that would be just great. A life threatening condition. Another thing he didn't need right now.

"I dunno, Jim. We'll have to synthesize an antidote. I don't know if it'll kill you or not. I got most of it out."

Kirk nodded. "Ok, Bones, we'll see what happens."

"In the mean time, Jim, I want you to get some more sleep. Why didn't you go back to bed after your dinner with Spock? You must have been tired." Bones knew him very well.

Their relationship was about three years past Kirk being able to get away with bullshit.

Kirk sighed. He didn't respond immediately. This was a conversation he'd prefer to only have when drinking. Drinking Whiskey. _Strong whiskey_. He needed to be drunk for this conversation. "He kept asking me about my mom...and how I grew up," Kirk finally managed.

"Shit, Jim." McCoy's voice was soft, and Kirk hadn't have know it would be, he wouldn't have heard what his friend said.

"Yeah." Kirk was quiet for a while longer...not sure he was ready to go here. But this was Bones. "And this was after he told me all about _his_ mom....who loved him more than anything." Kirk wasn't sure how he got it out. It was odd. The Vulcan was the most un-emotionally demonstrative person Kirk knew, and yet he'd known the greatest love that Kirk had ever heard of. He was... well, ...he was jealous, sort of. But you can't truly be jealous of something you've never known and don't truly understand.

Kirk had never known what that felt like. And likely would never know. His mother hadn't been mean, exactly, but she hadn't been...there. At first she was too grief stricken, in too hard a place emotionally to reach out to someone else. Kirk knew well that her own pain had blinded her to his. She was too lonely to see his loneliness. And then, later, when she had seemed to stabilize a bit, she'd married Frank. And that had been a disaster. Of EPIC proportions.

Frank hated kids, and had made it known.

And then his mom was always off planet after that. And he was left...with Frank.

Kirk was never sure how much, if anything, his mother knew about it.

Bones knew much of this. He'd noted long ago that Kirk never went home. Never talked about his family. Had no pictures. Kirk had figured that McCoy would figure it out eventually. The man had a PhD in psychology as well as MD after all. The doctor was a man with an intimidating amount of initials behind his name.

One night after a great deal of alcohol on both their parts, McCoy had asked him how often he'd been beaten. Kirk had dropped the bottle, and they'd lost most of the bourbon to the carpet. And they'd laughed as they cleaned it up. And eventually they'd talked. So McCoy knew. As far as Kirk knew, McCoy was the only that did.

But Pike probably suspected. Pike knew about Tarsus after all. And the man was smart enough to know there would have been a reason Kirk was sent there.

"Shit, Jim, that must have been hard." Oh, McCoy was still talking. Kirk hoped he hadn't been zoned out for too long.

He grunted a response to the doctor's comment, hoping that it would sound like he'd been listening. He was glad they were nearly there. Even though he'd brought up this topic, he was ready to let it go.

"Yeah, I didn't want to stay with him after we ate,...it just felt too...weird. Ya know?"

Bones did know. He'd had his whole divorce thing after all, so the man had to know all about awkward. "Yeah, Jim," the doctor sounded weary, "I do know."

They were both quiet for a little while lost in their own respective traumas when Kirk remembered something. "Hey, Bones, what's the matter with the Vulcans?"

Bones looked relieved at the change of subject. "It's mostly shock, Jim. Many of the ones who have collapsed have done so because of broken life-bonds. "

Kirk knew he looked confused.

Bones sighed. "It's not something they like to talk about. But when they bond, they bond for life. And they connect mentally. Think about having half your brain or soul ripped out when your spouse dies."

Kirk didn't have to imagine it. He recalled all too well the agony of the older Spock's mind at watching Vulcan implode. He remembered being in so much pain he couldn't breathe. How it had taken him several breaths to recover from the anguish. Kirk desperately hoped to never feel that kind of pain again.

So fractured life bonds were causing many of the Vulcans to collapse. Maybe he could ask Spock to ask the council what they could do.

And speaking of Spock, it seemed they'd finally arrived.

Kirk was interested to discover that he was hoping the first officer wasn't in. But no such luck. When Bones rang the buzzer, Spock answered immediately.

Kirk thought he saw a flash of relief across the Vulcan's eyes, but it was gone so fast, he wasn't sure he'd seen it. The Vulcan raised an eyebrow and nodded at each of them individually. "Captain, Doctor. May I infer that the captain's condition has worsened now, than earlier this evening?"

McCoy grunted an affirmative. The word that Kirk heard leave his own lips might have been "Tired." But he wasn't entirely sure. He'd reached that point of the evening.

"Do you require assistance, Doctor?" Spock's tone was as even and measured as always.

"Just help me get him to bed," McCoy grumbled.

Spock moved to join them immediately; he moved Kirk's other arm over his own shoulder and nearly lifted the captain off the ground. Kirk was ready to voice a protest at being treated like such an invalid, but right now, he didn't really care. Holding his up was tiring enough.

The two men settled him easily into bed, and Kirk had a moments thought of concern for Spock's clean sheets. He felt a hand upon his forehead, and knew that Bones was still in the room.

"He's got a pretty high fever, Spock."

Kirk couldn't hear or see the Vulcan's response, but whatever the first officer did, it must have indicated surprise or disbelief, because Bones growled and said, "I don't know. He's Jim Kirk: its explanation enough."

Kirk would have protested this, but he felt the doctor's hypo hiss against his neck. Surprisingly though, he didn't feel himself slipping into unconsciousness. He opened a bleary eye to gaze at the doctor.

"That was just an antipyretic, Jim, fever reducer. You're getting a couple more."

Kirk gave a faint noise of protest, and looked hopefully at Spock.

Spock was steadfastly monitoring Bones, though, and looking carefully at the drugs the doctor was administering. Kirk wondered about that.

"This one's an antihistamine. And this one's your vitamins." Kirk felt them each hiss into his neck and glared at the doctor. God, he hated those things. And maybe he would kill Bones later.

"Just two more, Jimmy boy. This one's tri-ox, to help you breath better. I think you need it after your broken rib tonight." Spock looked up sharply at that.

"The captain sustained a broken rib?" It was said with perhaps slightly more concern than Kirk was used to experiencing from his first officer. It gave Kirk pause and he swallowed the sarcastic reply he'd been going to make. "The captain is right here," he said, "and he'd rather not be talked about like he wasn't."

Great, now he was talking about himself in the third person. Definitely long past time for sleep.

Spock turned to face Kirk as McCoy readied his final hypo. "How did were your injuries sustained, captain?" The Vulcan probably didn't mean it, but he phrased the question in a way that made Kirk feel about twelve years old, like he was being reprimanded by his teacher.

"It's a long story, Spock," Kirk said with a sigh.

"He fell down," McCoy supplied.

Okay, so it wasn't that long. And that made him sound like a klutz. "Chekov ran into me," Kirk supplied.

This time Kirk saw Spock lift the eyebrow. "Does the captain often fracture bones when impacting with other humans?" Spock asked.

"This is the first time I've known it to happen when he wasn't fighting with someone." And though Bones tried to sound gruff, Kirk could hear the concern in his voice.

"Indeed." Spock nodded. "May I inquire as to what is ailing the captain?"

Both Kirk and McCoy turned to look at the science officer.

Spock continued, "As it has been nearly 52 hours since the captain was released from sickbay, he should be in improved condition, but he is not. Therefore, I must surmise that there is something preventing his recovery."

McCoy sighed an ran a hand through his brown hair. He was so preoccupied with his story that he hadn't yet given Kirk the final hypo. "Yeah. It might be a lingering effect of the Hengrauggi, or it might be his body's immune system. I'd like you to keep him here overnight and I'll see about synthesizing an antidote."

Spock nodded. "Logical, doctor."

But Kirk didn't want that. Bones needed to rest. He shook his head. "No way, Bones, you are going to bed."

"Jim, I can sleep when I'm dead, or better yet, when we get back to earth and I can get off this bucket of bolts. " Bones looked torn between relief at the thought of bed, and resentment at being sent there by man five years his junior.

"Bed, Bones. That's final." Kirk was glad he still had some pull around here. It was occuring to him that this day was ending up exactly like the one he'd had two days ago.

Well at least he hadn't nearly died this time.

Spock rescued the doctor. "Doctor McCoy, I may have a solution to your problem. If you would send me what information you have about the effects of the Hengrauggi venom on the captain's immune system, I can see if it would be possible to synthesize several antidotes while you sleep. With your permission, I will then assist you to figure out which of those would be most suited to the captain's immune system. "

McCoy nodded. "Yeah, that might work. That okay with you, Jim?"

Kirk had been wondering if the two of them even remembered he was in the room. He shrugged. "Sure."

McCoy looked at Spock. "Wake me in four hours." Kirk cursed, he really wanted his friend to get more sleep than that.

Spock nodded.

McCoy looked back down at Kirk. He had remembered his final hypospray. The doctor held it up. "This one's a sedative."

Kirk tried to protest that he didn't need one.

McCoy glared at him, "You want to be on duty tomorrow?"

Kirk nodded.

"Then this will put you out for about eight hours. Light duty only. There will be no hanging about upside down in engineering."

Busted.

Kirk had the good graces to look chagrined. He blushed. "Yes sir," he said.

"Damn right." McCoy, perhaps more gently than normal, pushed the hypo into his neck. "It should take effect in about five minutes, Jim, so don't go anywhere."

Yeah, like I could, Kirk thought.

And then, he knew no more.

* * *

Please review. Thanks for all the well wishes. I appreciate them.

The "long story," and "apparently not that long" are not mine originally. I've seen them done many times, perhaps most successfully in _Buffy_.


	13. Chapter 13

Still not mine.

Warning for language, and dark subject matter. It's mild but its present. I don't normally plan this fic, I just kind of sit down and let it flow, and this was where it went. I swear I had no control over it.

* * *

_Kirk was falling. _

_Falling._

_Falling._

_Spiraling out of control. Flipping end over end._

_Kirk lost his grip on Sulu and the two of them fell apart._

_He fell faster and faster. Kirk couldn't see the helmsman anymore._

_He looked down. _

_The ground was coming up fast. _

_The gold suited man fell further away from him, and impacted the ground._

_Kirk could not hear the impact, but he felt it...in his heart._

_His fault. It was his fault. _

_Should have been faster. _

_Sulu would be another death on his conscious._

_He was still failing. He could smell the dirt now._

_He plummeted past the Sulu's body, braseing himself for the impact with the rock._

_It didn't come._

_He was falling through the planet now. Falling into the black hole._

_Falling._

_Sucked into nothingness._

_As he watched Vulcan being destroyed._

_He was pulled apart, piece by piece._

_One atom at time.  
_

_It burned._

_It hurt him. _

_But it was easier than the other pain.  
_

_He could feel their deaths._

_All six billion of them._

_All of them. _

_The psychic resonance overpowered him. _

_He was dying. _

_Dying._

**"JIM!"**

Kirk woke with a start. He found himself in bed, Spock holding his arms. He was drenched in sweat. Kirk fought for breath, gasping, gulping, desperate for air.

He felt like he couldn't breathe.

"Captain. You seemed to be having a nightmare." Spock's tone was impeccably polite.

Kirk forced himself to focus. Spock had a hand on each of his shoulders. They felt like brands. Kirk could feel bruises forming from the strength of the Vulcan's hands.

Spock released his grip. "Forgive me, Captain. I had some difficulty in waking you."

Kirk nodded. He was still gulping for air.

It had seemed so real. Just like the moment when he plummeted off the drill platform after Sulu. He'd been certain they were going to die. He could remember the dry, arid smell of dirt. They'd been inches away when they'd been beamed up.

Then there was the imploding planet. He was sure that he'd been seeing it from the older Spock's point of view. Kirk knew those memories hadn't come from himself. He wasn't telepathic for one thing, and he couldn't feel psychic resonance.

Spock could.

He wondered if it had affected the younger Spock as strongly as it had affected the older one.

Of course it had.

They were the same person after all.

Kirk turned back to the Vulcan. Spock had released his grip, but he hadn't moved away from the bed. Kirk stared at him in the dim light. He wondered if Vulcans dreamed. If Spock did, he didn't blame the science officer for not sleeping. He wouldn't be sleeping either, if these were the kind of nights he had to look forward to.

He remembered what Bones had said about the Vulcan passengers collapsing from severed lifebonds. But had Spock had one to sever? Kirk didn't know. He wondered. He guessed not, because Spock had been with Uhura. But then, maybe Vulcan's had different standards about that kind of thing.

He wondered if it would be impolite to ask.

Kirk decided to go with it.

"Spock," he hesitated. He didn't want to get the shit beat out of himself again.

"Yes, captain."

Kirk took a deep breath, and steeled himself. He hoped this went over better than the conversation at dinner. "Spock, I wanna ask you a question, and I'd like you to answer it, but I don't wanna be a dick about it either. So if its not my business, just...let me know."

Spock stared at him. The Vulcan nodded slowly. "You may proceed, captain."

Kirk blinked, surprised. "Okay." He hesitated again. He wanted to seem respectful this time. Kirk still felt awful about what he'd said to the Vulcan on the bridge. "Um, I just wanted to know if you'd had a lifebond, back on Vulcan, you know...before."

Spock must have been somewhat relaxed before, because at Kirk's question, his face tensed and shuttered closed. The science officer broke eye contact and looked away. His eyes fluttered briefly closed. When he responded, his tone was quiet. "May I inquire as to why you wish you to know?"

And just from that reaction, Kirk did know.

"I'm so sorry, Spock. I'm so sorry." He murmured a phrase he'd heard one of the Vulcans use in the hall the previous day. "I grieve with thee."

Spock looked up at him, sharply, but distinguishing no guile in Kirk's eyes, he nodded. "I thank thee."

Kirk nodded. He allowed his face to show only compassion. No pity. "What was her name? Or his name?" Kirk didn't know if Vulcan's went both ways or not.

Spock was silent a long time. "Her name was T'Pring, Jim. We were betrothed when we were seven; I had not seen her in some time."

Kirk nodded. Again. "That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." He knew that from experience, with his mother. Just because you hadn't seen a loved one in a long time, didn't mean you stopped caring about them.

The science officer nodded and was silent. Kirk stared at him in the dim light. Really stared at him. Spock looked terrible. Kirk wondered if he could somehow make the Vulcan sleep. But then he remembered that it was likely that Spock might not want to sleep.

Kirk definitely didn't want to dream anymore.

But he still felt obscenely tired.

He wondered what time it was. He asked Spock.

"It is just past 03:30, Captain. You have only been asleep for three hours. I have to wake the doctor in sixty-three minutes. He will be expecting you to be asleep."

Hmm, Bones would be displeased. He was supposed to sleep another four hours minimum.

Kirk didn't care. He didn't want to dream any more tonight. Any other time, he get out of bed and go for a walk, or a run. But he couldn't do that now. McCoy would really kill him if that happened. But maybe he could do something else that would occupy his mind.

"Spock, play chess with me."

Kirk had to hand it to the Vulcan. He somehow managed not to look taken aback. But the Vulcan's tone did not quite effectively manage to conceal his surprise. "Captain, you have endured significant injuries and you are excessively fatigued. You should rest."

Kirk gave his first officer an assessing look. "That's not a no, commander."

Spock nodded. "Indeed, captain, it was not meant to be."

Spock stood gracefully and retrieved the chessboard from the adjoining room. He set it on the side of the bed, and Kirk allowed Spock to arrange the pieces.

With a tiny smirk, Kirk picked white again.

It was every bit as awesome as it had been before. They were just as perfectly, evenly matched. But they only had an hour, so they both tried to make it quick.

This time, the Vulcan forced a stalemate.

But perhaps not be a permanent stalemate. It would be a game they could continue at a later time.

Spock had to leave shortly afterward, but he indicated that he would have McCoy stop by if Kirk needed another sedative. Kirk was most emphatic about _not_ needing another sedative. Kirk _hated_ drugs. He always had. Kirk figured he might be able to will himself back to sleep.

He lay with his head on the pillow, mulling over the last few days.

Kirk felt really bad for the older Spock. Not only had he lost his planet, but he had lost his whole universe. He'd lost everything. Bad as Kirk's life had been, he'd never lost everything all at once.

All thought, at times it had felt like he had. Frank. Tarsus. Sometimes...well, it wasn't exactly too much. But it was ...well, it was a lot. He rolled over.

Spock had been gone a while. Kirk wondered what time it was now. Maybe he could get up and prepare for his day. He definitely wasn't ready to go back to sleep. Kirk decided to haul himself out of bed and into the shower. Perhaps the warm water would relax him.

Kirk turned the water on very hot. He quickly stripped off and climbed under the heated stream. The heat worked into his muscles and unknotted them. He pushed his face under the stream and allowed the flow of water to pour over his eyes and mouth and nose.

He lost all track of time.

When he emerged from the shower, and wrapped himself in a towel, he was unsurprised to find Bones leaning against the bathroom door. Even in the dim light of the bedroom, Kirk could see that McCoy looked better than he had the night before. "Couldn't sleep?" the doctor asked?

Kirk didn't bother to deny it. "No," he said, "Dreams."

Bones nodded.

"Spock sell me out?" Kirk was curious about why the doctor was here.

"Naw. I wanted to check on you."

Kirk nodded. He was too tired to spar verbally with Bones right now. He stumbled back to Spock's bed. When he was safely back beneath the covers, McCoy came to his bedside.

"You gonna be able to go back to sleep on yer own?" Bones' accent was thick this morning.

Kirk shook his head. "I dunno, Bones."

McCoy nodded, "Okay." He pulled a hypo from his pocket, and for once, Kirk didn't protest as Bones pressed it to his neck. "I'll make sure you wake up in time for your shift, Jim. Just go back to sleep for now."

Kirk nodded, sleepily. He heard Bones mutter something about going back to work, but before he could process any more of the doctor's words, Kirk'd slipped back into sleep.

* * *

Please Review. Reviews make for faster updates. Sorry this is late, guys, life's still been hectic. Hard-drive crashed. Laptop died.

Quick author's note. Tarsus and T'Pring are are TOS references. Tarsus is referenced in "Conscience of the King" and T'Pring is from "Amok Time." Kirk's history with Frank is my own invention all thought Memory Alpha says its canon that Frank abused him. I work as an advocate for victims of child abuse/domestic violence and frankly Jim...has all the signs. As I've said before. I write him as I understand him. Hope that makes sense.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: They still aren't mine. I have not worked out a way to make several hundred million dollars in the last week. When I do though....they will be mine, and they will never leave the hot tub.

OMG, guys. Over 100,000 viewings. I love you. Thanks for reviewing, favoriting and alerting. And to celebrate, there is a long chapter. With Pike.

This chapter got long fast. It's my longest update ever. There'll be another chapter up soon, because the only reason this one cuts off where it does is because it got so long so quick. So end of the week or early next, there might be another update. (I hope...you know, if Real Life allows it).

Authors Note: I know nothing about engines or immune systems. If the science is wrong, ....well, frankly, the science is probably wrong (sorry). Ignore it, or send me a long message, explaining how I should change it, and I will. Of you know, you could just deal with it. Whatever makes you happy.

* * *

Kirk woke feeling surprisingly better. Something of the exhaustion lingered about the edges of his vision, but he felt better than he had in days. Since before the hearing anyway. God, had that been the last day that life felt normal?

He was allowed back on duty today.

The thought struck him as he was climbing out of Spock's bed, and heading for the shower.

_Back on duty. Back on duty. Back on duty_. The phrase kind of sing-songed in his head. He was going to be allowed on the bridge today without any guilt trips whatsoever.

Awesome.

Kirk climbed into the shower, and gave himself a good going over. Everything was still a little sore, but nothing much more than a really good workout would do. He luxuriated in the warm water, soaking up the relaxation gifted by the warm spray. God, he loved to shower. It made him wonder how people survived in places that only had sonics. You could get cleaned and disinfected with a sonic shower, yeah, but you couldn't really enjoy the experience. After some time, he reluctantly pulled himself out of the shower and donned a clean uniform. Well, a clean pair of pants and a clean undershirt. He didn't have a pullover yet.

He wasn't sure that was important, anyway. Right now he was more recognizable in just his blacks.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, Kirk looked for Spock, who was nowhere to be seen. Kirk still had about two hours before he had to be on the bridge, but he was used to getting up pretty early. He'd always gone for runs before starting his day back at the Academy. But McCoy would probably kill him if he were to exert himself like that right now.

So a run was probably out.

But he could eat, and then maybe he would wander down to sickbay to see Captain Pike. As he thought of his mentor, Kirk's heart gave a little twinge. He should have been to see the man before now. He liked Pike a lot. The man had seen something in him, and believed in him. He'd seen a gift in Kirk, and he'd seen it even when Kirk hadn't seen it for himself. He'd even taken the role of Kirk's adviser, and Kirk knew for a fact that Pike had taken no other advisees. Kirk had kind of glowed when he'd heard that. He'd walked around with his head in the clouds for weeks. It had meant a lot to him that Pike seemed to think he was special. Not that Pike had seemed thrilled by his appearance on the ship.

But then Pike had made him first officer. So he guessed Pike hadn't been _too _angry. Kirk hoped not anyway.

And if he went down to sickbay early, there was a chance that Bones might have worked up that miracle cure for whatever was keeping him from healing. He was sick and tired of feeling... sick and tired.

He wandered to the mess, more or less lost in his thoughts. Kirk was very pleased to be back on duty today. He noticed as he walked that every person he passed was snapping to attention as he walked by. It annoyed him. He found it a waste of efficiency. But it was Pike's ship, and Pike was known for running a tight one. The man wasn't exactly a hard-ass, but you followed the rules on his ship.

Well, unless you were Bones. Kirk smirked as he thought about the gravity of Bones' offense. He hoped the other man didn't end up in trouble for smuggling him aboard.

Kirk made it to the mess and through breakfast, remarkably without incident or injury, which hadn't happened before on this mission. So that was a good thing. He did notice that the mess was quieter than it ought to have been, but that was likely a sign of grief, or of the shock they'd all been through. It _had_ been a trying couple of days. He wondered if there was anything he could do about that.

Kirk also noticed as he made his way to sickbay that a great number of the crew were stopping to stare at him. That was a little bit odd. But then, he was a bit of an oddity.

He decided to put it out of his head.

Kirk walked into sickbay with a smile on his face. "Bones," he called.

"Here, Jim." Bones was in the back of the sickbay, bent over a micro-viewer. Spock was with him. "Captain," the Vulcan greeted him, "I trust you are feeling more rested?"

Kirk nodded. "Yeah, Spock, I am. Slept well." He had actually, when he'd gone back to sleep after his nightmare. Whatever Bones had put in that hypo had been good. His brain at least, felt completely rejuvenated. His body, not so much. "You guys figure out what's wrong with me?" His voice cracked on the question and immediately Bones was scanning him with a tricorder.

It was McCoy who answered. "Actually, Jim, we think so." The doctor was looking very relieved. Kirk beamed at them. That was his Bones. Give the man an hour and a challenge, and he'd come through for you. "You eat today, Jimbo?"

Couldn't the man tell that with the tricorder? "Yeah, I did. Eggs and everything. What's wrong with me?" Kirk asked, impatient.

McCoy looked slightly sheepish. "The remaining Hengrauggi venom has bonded with some of the Mulvarean Mud Flea virus, and the two of them are acting as an impediment to your healing. The symbiotic virus is actively preventing your own body from allowing your immune system to aid your healing. You produce lactic acid when your muscles get tired, and your body reabsorbs it once you are sufficiently rested. This virus is preventing you both from reabsorbing the lactic acid, and also slowing your body from making new cells. So to make a long story short, you aren't healing, because the virus is killing your new cells nearly as fast as you can make them, and so even though you rest you don't rejuvenate."

_Well damn_.

McCoy continued, "This is all made worse because the virus is very similar in structure to the Mud Flea virus that I gave you when we came aboard. Your immune system isn't recognizing it as a new virus, Jim, so it isn't fighting it. And I can't to give you another vaccine because of the way you reacted to the last one."

Oh. That sucked. So he wasn't going to be getting any better anytime soon. _Story of his life_.

Kirk sucked in a breath. "Ok, Bones. Now what do we do about it?"

McCoy raised his eyebrow at Kirk's easy acceptance of his predicament, but it was Spock, who answered. "We are endeavoring to synthesize a antibody which which will allow your body to recognize and combat this version of the virus."

Kirk nodded. "Okay, that sounds good, Commander. I have faith in the two of you." The two men glanced at each other, and neither looked all together that reassured.

Time to change the subject, then.

Kirk looked at McCoy. "How's Captain Pike, Bones?"

McCoy looked slightly relieved at the change of subject, and his face softened a bit at Kirk's concern. "He's stable, Jim. But not much more than that. I'll have a full report for you at the staff meeting."

Kirk nodded. "So can I see him?"

McCoy thought it over. "He's been in and out of consciousness, but you can go in if you like. If he's sleeping, though, I'd rather you didn't wake him."

Kirk nodded. That made sense. "I won't, Bones. I just want to let him know what's going on with his girl."

Spock raised an eyebrow at that.

What? It wasn't like Pike hadn't called the ship a girl. _Careful with the ship, Spock, she's brand new. _The words came back to Kirk then, and he felt a fresh surge of guilt for the cracks in her gleaming white hull. They hadn't destroyed her, but they'd been anything but careful.

Kirk could feel the smile slide from his face a little as he turned toward the privacy room, in which Pike was resting. He looked back at McCoy, who was eyeing him thoughtfully. "How much does he know?"

Bones expression went a little gloomy. "Not much, Jim. He hasn't been really been awake for long periods."

"Right," Kirk nodded. "Okay, well, I'm going in. I'll be out before the staff meeting, Spock."

The commander nodded and turned back to his microviewer.

Just as Kirk was about to open Pike's door, he heard Bones growl, "You may not excite him under any circumstances," which made Kirk wonder exactly how much of the story he was going to have to leave out. It was pretty _exciting_.

"As if I would," Kirk retorted.

Pike was sleeping. Kirk didn't like it. He'd never seen the man sleeping before. He looked so...still. And grey. Pike's hair was grey. Kirk didn't remember it being that color. Or maybe he'd just never noticed. Pike had never exactly given off the impression of being old. The older man had always seemed...mature. Confident. Experienced. Never old. He'd told Kirk before though, that Kirk made him feel old sometimes.

Kirk laughed a little at the memory. Pike had given him a right telling off that time.

He supposed that was half of a cadet's job, though. To _make_ your advisor feel old. Kirk was glad that Pike had taken him as an advisee. It had made him feel special. But that was Pike. He was good at making people feel important, feel wanted. And Pike had certainly made Jim feel wanted. He'd had Kirk to dinner just about every Sunday the man had been on Earth. Pike had started by asking politely and Kirk would always refuse, figuring the Captain was asking him out of pity. Kirk didn't accept pity. Not from anyone. After Kirk's forth refusal, Pike made it an order., saying that all his advisees had to attend and it was mandatory. Kirk had fretted and agonized, but he'd shown up. On time and everything.

He'd been the only person there, aside from Pike. It turned that he was Pike's _only_ advisee. The captain was exempted from taking ordinary advisees because of his schedule and responsibilites. He'd picked Kirk and apparently had had to fight to keep him. This gave Kirk a strange flutter in his stomach that he'd never had before. Dinner had been pretty good and the next week, Kirk had gone without a fuss. Six weeks in, he was showing up early, and Pike was still looking pleased to see him. Kirk couldn't quite figure out why, but it made him happy. Pike would ask him about his classes, his friends, his hobbies. It had been really freaking weird at first. Nobody was ever _interested_ in Jim.

But Kirk loved it. And sometimes it seemed to him, that maybe Pike was lonely, and that it was helpful for both of them. For the first time Kirk guessed he knew what it would have felt like to have had a father.

Pike loved him. Kirk knew that. Even just a few hours ago, on the _Narada_, Pike had saved his life, shooting that Romulan with Kirk's own phaser.

But this man...on the bed, didn't look like Pike. There were tubes everywhere. There was even a mask over Pike's face to help him breathe. Kirk didn't like it. He didn't like it that Pike looked...fragile. Kirk sat heavily on the chair beside the bed, fighting the impulse to sigh aloud. Damn. This wasn't how he wanted to see the other man. But Kirk sat anyway. And he was going to stay.

Even if Pike didn't wake up the whole time he was here.

It was the least he could do, after all that Pike had done for him.

He found his thoughts drifting, when he heard a soft, familiar voice say, "Kid. What are you doing in here?" And he looked into a pair of familiar hazel eyes.

Kirk straightened self-consciously. "Hey," he said.

"Hey yourself." Pike's voice was strained, as it had been on the Romulan vessel. Kirk wasn't really surprised by that, but he still didn't like it much.

"Ship's status?" Pike asked. Kirk liked that, though. It was the first thing he would have asked had their positions been reversed.

"Normal. Or as close as we can get it." Kirk replied. "How're you feeling, sir?" He asked. Pike was one of the few people of whom Kirk was always respectful. Pike'd earned it.

Pike smiled weakly at him. "Like Hell." Pike's pupils were dilated, and Kirk could guess that McCoy had the captain drugged to the gills. The man was probably high as kite.

Kirk laughed. "I can imagine."

"I'd probably be feeling a lot worse if it weren't for you." Pike's expression was earnest and tender; it caught Kirk completely by surprise.

"Just following orders, Captain, like I told you." Kirk tried, without success, to suppress the blush he could feel spreading on his cheeks.

"Kirk, you don't have to be self deprecating. You took a risk in coming to get me and I appreciate it. You probably saved my life."

Kirk knew the blush was radiating out from his cheeks now. In fact likely his whole face was bright red. Unable to meet Pike's open expression, Kirk looked down and away from the other man. "It was a life worth saving, Sir."

Pike was saved from having to reply by having a mild coughing fit. Kirk was at his side in an instant, one hand behind the other man's back, helping him to sit up.

"Should I get Bones?"

Pike looked confused for an instant, but then he must have remembered Jim's nickname for McCoy because his expression cleared, and he said, "No. That man's a good surgeon, but he's a menace with a hypospray."

Kirk laughed. "I could have told you that."

"I seem to recall that several times over dinner you did tell me that," the captain replied.

"Yeah. Might have." Kirk kept his tone light, but he was still concerned over the captain's condition.

Pike must have noticed his scrutiny, because he snapped, "Oh stop looking at me like that, Kirk. I'm going to be fine. At least that's what your doctor says" at Kirk.

Well, if Bones had told Pike that, then Bones must have believed it, because Bones didn't lie to patients about their conditions.

"Good," Kirk said, and then figuring that maybe they both needed a distraction from this line of conversation, he added, "Wanna hear about your ship, sir?"

Pike's eyes seemed to light up with some inner fire at Kirk's mention of the _Enterprise_, so Kirk began telling him everything he knew about how the ship was hanging together.

It wasn't until several minutes later that Kirk realized he'd never even told Pike that he was in command.

Oh god, how was he going to explain this?

He settled on the short version. "Uh, Captain Pike, there's something I kind of need to tell you. After Vulcan was destroyed, Spock's mom died when we were trying to get her aboard, and he was emotionally compromised, so...I'm in command." The last three words came out in a rush, running together. He hoped Pike wasn't about to kill him.

Pike just stared.

So Kirk stared back.

Finally, Pike said, "I take it the whole story is much longer."

Kirk looked down again. "Um, yeah."

Pike nodded, "I'll expect a full report when I'm not on the good drugs."

Kirk laughed. "Yessir. You'll get one." He was so going to be telling Pike about the other Spock. That made him wonder if the other universe had a Pike, and if the other Kirk had known him.

Pike sobered, "How's Spock?"

Kirk honestly didn't know. "I don't know, sir. He seems okay, just...quiet. But then I don't really know how he should be acting."

Pike looked hard at Kirk. "The two of you are getting along?" It was phrased more like an order than a question.

"Yeah, we are. We're sharing a bunk. Kind of," Kirk replied.

Pike looked even more surprised than he had when Kirk had told him Spock had been emotionally compromised. "Sharing a bunk?"

Kirk sighed. "It's a long story, sir."

Pike nodded. "Evidently. I'll expect a _long_ report. Later."

Kirk could see that his mentor was tiring. He nodded. "Long report. Later. Check."

Pike nodded again. "Good."

Kirk stood up and looked down at Pike. "I'm glad I got to you in time, Captain."

Pike's expression softened, and he said, "Between you and a crazy torturing Romulan with advanced weapons from the future, Jim, my money was always on you."

Kirk swallowed against a lump in his throat. He hadn't known that Pike had that kind of faith in him. It was like being back in the cave with the older Spock again.

Pike continued. "You don't know how to lose, Jim, and so you don't accept that you can. Starfleet is damn lucky that you don't. That's what saved us all. I'm very proud of you.

Kirk nodded, speechless. Turning from Pike he said, Thank you, sir. I'll...I'll let you rest now." He didn't want Pike to see the tear that slipped down his cheek.

When Spock came to collect him a few minutes later for the staff meeting, Kirk had once again composed himself and was ready to meet his day and his crew.

* * *

Please review. I do read them, all, and I try to respond to most of them, and they make me write faster. Really.

He'd seen a gift in Kirk, and he'd seen it even when Kirk hadn't seen it for himself....This isn't quite a quote, but it's a close paraphrase of Remus Lupin's "She had a way of seeing the beauty in others, even, and perhaps most especially, when that person couldn't see it in themselves." From Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, the movie, not the book.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: They still aren't mine.

This update has been sitting in the document manager unfinished for nearly two months. I apologize for that fact. I'm moving this week to a place 300 miles from where I live now, and you know, sometimes stuff...gets in the way. Also, recently broke my right hand. Which makes it VERY HARD to type. But anyways, here. Hope you like it.

Usual warnings apply for language and some adult issues.

* * *

Kirk walked along a step ahead of Spock. The Vulcan had positioned himself a half step behind Kirk, at his left shoulder. Kirk wondered if the Vulcan was being solicitous about his condition again, and was allowing Kirk to walk a step ahead so that he could catch the captain if he fell. He wondered if Bones had put him up to that, or if that was just where the Vulcan wanted to be. It was nice that he was acting caring and all, but part of Kirk still expected the science officer to start beating his head in.

Kirk decided not to think about it too much. It was going to give him a headache. There wasn't much that didn't give him a headache these days.

He hesitated at the door of the briefing room, realizing that he was about to lead a staff meeting. As the captain.

Oh God.

Kirk shut his eyes a second and drew in a deep breath. Focus, Kirk. You can do this. He opened his eyes, squared his shoulders, and raised his head.

He was ready.

He strode into the room like he owned it, and without allowing himself any sort of pause, sat in the captain's chair. It felt just as good as the chair on the bridge. Like he was home for the first time in his life. Kirk had to fight to prevent a smile from escaping his face. He could get used to this.

Except he shouldn't...cause you know, he didn't really know if he would ever have it again.

Kirk looked around the table. They were all here. Spock, Bones, Sulu, Uhura, Chekov and Scotty. They all looked as tired as he felt. Kirk felt a rush of affection for them all. Some of them were looking confident and eager, despite their apparent fatigue and a couple (namely Chekov) were looking every bit as scared as he felt. It was weird to think that under what should have been ordinary circumstances, only Sulu, Spock and Chekov would have had clearance to be on the bridge. But these people had proved themselves the last couple of days and there was no way that Kirk would ignore success.

"Good morning, people," he said with an enthusiasm he did not quite feel.

A chorus of various "Good Morning, Captain"s met his ears, and he smiled again. This time it was a genuine smile, and he allowed it to reach his eyes. "Alright, we've got a lot to do today," he said. "Mr. Spock, any news? Report."

The Vulcan's face was impassive, as always. "All systems report normal, captain."

Kirk wondered again what could be considered normal for this trip? They were so far outside normal that Kirk wondered if they were ever going to return to it.

Kirk wanted to say, "Normal for what?" but he bit his tongue. He supposed he ought to start with the area of greatest need. The engines. The heart of everything that went on in a starship.

"Scotty?" he asked.

The Scotsman snapped to. "Aye, captain, there's no real news to tell ye. We're runnin' o' impulse only, but ye' know that, sir. Without the warp corp, sir, we're putting quite a strain on the lady. There's no guarantee we'll have have power long enough to get back to Earth."

Damn. That was a blow.

"Spock, I'll need you to work with Mr. Scott and see what the two of you can do about boosting our power yield. At the very least, I want an estimate of how long we can sustain this level of output. "

"I wolunteer to help them, sir," Chekov piped up. Kirk couldn't help but smile at the kid.

"Okay, Mr. Chekov, you can help them out. I need answers gentlemen. We may have to see about the feasibility of arranging a tow." They nodded. Even now, Kirk was surprised at how quickly they deferred to him. They trusted him to get them out of this. Even Spock.

It was weird.

It gave him a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach and Kirk ducked his head to avoid the crew seeing him blush.

"Lieutenant Uhura, what've you got for me?"

Her tone, when she answered, was civil, which was a great deal more than he'd been expecting from her, given her earlier reaction to his taking command. Oh well. "Sir. Starfleet Command has been requesting pretty constant updates. "

Kirk nodded. He'd been expecting that.

"We are also experiencing an incredible influx of civilian traffic, captain." She said this gently.

He looked at her. "Civilian traffic?"

"Yes sir. Both authorized and unauthorized. Everyone wants to know that their families are alright."

Kirk pursed his lips and nodded. He should have thought of that. "Lieutenant, get a list of everyone on board. All the surviving Starfleet personnel and post it to the fleet inter-web. That should clear up some of the traffic. Then I want you to get a list of all the Vulcans aboard and we can post that as well."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "Sir, there is something to be said for allowing the crew a few minutes to actually talk to their families." Her tone was respectful and her point was a good one.

"I know, Lieutenant, but I want to make sure we have room on the comm channels for emergency instructions. Try to keep three to four frequencies completely open at all times. Also, give at least two channels completely over the Vulcans. They'll need what comfort they can draw from each other. Ambassador Sarek may be able to help you set something up."

Spock looked momentarily taken aback. "I will assist in this matter."

Kirk nodded. "Thank you, Spock, I was hoping you'd say that."

The Vulcan nodded and studied Kirk thoughtfully.

Kirk looked at his padd for a moment before saying, "We should probably also publish a list of our casualties."

The suggestion felt loud in the quiet space.

"I'll do that, Jim." Bones's voice was quiet, but calm. Kirk nodded again.

"Thanks, Bones." The doctor nodded

Kirk looked around the table, "Has everyone in this room gotten a chance to check in with your families? I don't want you distracted people." The acting captain slowly met the eyes of everyone present.

"Actually, captain," Uhura spoke up, "nearly every member of the crew has already spoken with their relatives. I set up a rotating schedule while you were still in sickbay. There's just a few more to go, and they should be finished by the end of the day.

Kirk beamed at her. "You are a wonder, Uhura. Truly."

She blushed and looked away from his gaze. "Actually, sir, you're one of the only people on the ship that I haven't been able to talk to about your next of kin. I don't know who I should contact."

Kirk stared at the table for a second. Faces flashed before his eyes. Sam, his mother, Frank. Sam...well, Sam was dead for all knew...and his mom and Frank...

"That's because there's no one to notify, Lieutenant." He heard himself say it. "Thank you for your efforts. "

"But captain-"

Kirk looked at her sharply, hoping to get his point across. She nodded at him, swallowing. "You're welcome. Sir."

_So...yeah, time to _really_ change the subject. _

"Sulu, where the hell are we?"

Sulu's response was a long drawn out series of coordinates and calculations amounting to the fact they were more or less, in the middle of nowhere and two weeks from anything.

So...that covered pretty much all of the big questions with the possible exception of-"So what are our damages?"

The list was...immense. Kirk absorbed it with no expression on his face. Hull damage. Structural damage. Deck six was...well, nearly gone. A good portion of it was open to vacuum. Gaping open wounds in both the saucer and the frame. No warp corp. Engine strain. Shields were nearly non-existent. There were structural cracks all over the ship. More than a quarter of the designated living space was uninhabitable. The ship's replicators were having trouble coping with the influx of Vulcan refugees. Their power drain train on the engines was enormous. There was no guarantee that the engines in their current state could even hold out for the two weeks necessary to get them back to Earth.

That was...sobering.

Damn, and he'd been in such a good mood this morning. Right now, he wished Christopher Pike was back in this chair.

But he wasn't.

Pike was down in sickbay, and damn if Kirk was going to let him down.

"Okay, people, how much of that structural damage can be fixed manually?" he heard himself say.

After a brief conference, Spock and Scotty supplied that certainly some of the damage could be fixed internally and some could possibly be fixed via space walking.

Kirk nodded. "Spock, if you could go through the crew roster, and find those people proficient in emergency repair or space jumping, we need to get them assigned to start shoring up the damage."

Spock nodded, impassively.

"Sulu, Chekov, when you have a minute, I want a team of people put together that can attempt to boost the replicator yield. See what you can do. If we have to sacrifice speed for food, I'm willing to do that. We are not running out of food, or resorting to rations unless there is no other possibility." The two men nodded.

"I know it's a lot, guys," Kirk said, addressing the whole table now. "But we have to keep the crew busy. People who are busy and tired don't have time to dwell on things. And right now, we just need to get home. And we can see if the Vulcans would be willing to help with anything."

There was an immediate outcry around the table to this comment. He'd expected it. Uhura was the loudest objector; Spock merely studied the table.

"Captain, it's not exactly the right time-" she started off.

Kirk held up a hand. "I"m not trying to be a dick, here. I do know these people are our guests. But right now, I'm guessing they need to feel...needed. Helpful. Some of these people just lost everything. The least we can do is give them a sense of a purpose. I'm not making it an order. I'm letting it be a suggestion. If they don't want to help they don't have to. But they can, if they want to, and frankly we sure could use it."

That settled most of his objectors. "Bones?" he asked.

"Yeah, Jim." Bones sounded as tired as Kirk had ever heard him.

"Anything we can do about grief counseling?"

McCoy grimaced, "I dunno, Jim. We're pretty swamped down there. Forty percent of the crew has minor injuries or worse, including you," and here Bones glared at him, "and we lost about fifty from Nero's various hits. Not to mention Captain Pike. And that's not even considering the Vulcans."

Kirk was persistent, but quiet, when he asked again. "Please, Bones."

The doctor sighed. "Okay, captain. I'll see what I can do."

"That's all I ask, Bones." Kirk kept his tone soft and serious as he answered his friend. He'd known McCoy would come through for him; the other man always did.

But speaking of the Vulcans...

"Spock, is there anything we can do to make the Vulcans more comfortable?" At this most every one looked attentively at the First Officer. They all wanted to find a way to make something good of this. Not that anything could replace a planet, and most of a species.

Spock closed his eyes a moment, the only break in an otherwise flawless facade. "Our situation is... adequate, captain."

Uhura, beside Spock, perked up immediately and began mentioning that what crew that could had offered to move out of their bunks and move in with other crew to the give the Vulcans some small measure of privacy.

Kirk was pleased with this idea, and said so. Uhura preened, which gave Kirk a good idea of whose idea it had been originally.

"Spock are there any healers among the Vulcans that can help you all...deal with this loss?" Kirk wasn't trying to be insensitive, but he wanted to know if he could get those people help.

"I will make inquiries, captain." The Vulcan's mask was firmly back in place.

Kirk nodded again. "Okay, Spock, just let me know-"

"Captain, if I may,-" Spock interjected, and then hesitated.

Now Kirk was curious. "What is it, Mr. Spock?"

"Vulcans often mediate to restore emotional control. It is an act we usually perform, alone, but given the enormity of this loss, it would perhaps be beneficial to secure a larger area where my people can mediate in groups." Spock pronounced each word slowly, as though with practiced consideration, and that more than anything gave away his current state of mind to Kirk.

"Consider it done, Mr. Spock."

The science officer cocked his head at Kirk's answer, raising an eyebrow at the illogic of Kirk's reply.

Kirk nearly smiled at him, but figured this wasn't the time. "Take one of the observation decks, Mr. Spock. We can make it off limits, to all but Vulcan traffic." But then Kirk thought better of that. "Actually, Mr. Spock, if your people would not find it offensive, perhaps we could allow the crew to mediate there as well, as long as they do not disturb the Vulcans. Everyone is going to need to time to grieve."

Spock was silent for a moment as he thought it over. "I will put the question to our elders. But I believe your suggestion to be acceptable."

_Acceptable_. High praise when you considered where he and Spock had started out.

"Okay, Mr. Spock. Lieutenant Uhura, can you make an announcement?"

"Yes, captain." Huh...that was the third time she'd called him that. He liked it. He nearly smirked at her just for old time's sake.

"Okay, people, anybody got anything else?" Kirk had a hell of headache, and was hoping that this meeting was nearly over.

Every shook their heads. "Dismissed then," he said. "Let's get to work."

He watched them file out and was surprised when Uhura stopped beside him. "Yes Lieutenant."

She looked at him strangely. "Captain, I'm...I'm not trying to overstep my bounds here, but you are the only member of the command crew who hasn't gotten to talk to his family. I can easily arrange a conference with the _Antares_, and you could talk to your mother, I know it may have been a long time, but I'm sure she'd want to hear you're still alive. Really, sir, it would be no trouble to hail-" She trailed off at the look on his face.

Kirk took a moment to wonder how Uhura even knew what ship his mother was on. Kirk only knew that because he could hack the Federation database.

Kirk closed his eyes against Uhura's earnest innocence. "Uhura, there are exactly two people in this universe who give a shit whether I live or die. And both of them are on this ship. So while I appreciate your concern, it is not necessary. There is no one you can notify." He looked her in the eyes that time, hoping drive the point home, all the while bracing himself for the pity he would see in her eyes.

But it was true. Pike and Bones were the only people who'd acted like they gave a fuck about him.

Uhura returned his gaze without flinching, and it wasn't pity he saw in those deep brown eyes, but understanding. "Captain, there are a great many people on this ship who care about you. Very much."

Her earnestness surprised him as much as it pleased and unsettled him. This was not how their relationship went. "Hah, I knew you just wanted in my pants." He exclaimed gleefully. It was easier than dealing with what she'd said.

She smirked at him. "You wish, Kirk, you wish."

* * *

So... review? Please. I like those. Please review. I do read them, all, and I try to respond to most of them, and they make me write faster. Really. For those of you that missed it, though, I broke my right hand and have been on writing hiatus. I'll be getting back to it now that I can type without excruciating pain. But it still hurts, so it may be slow going for a while.


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Note. So returning (slowly) to writing.

This is super short-only a drabble, really. Will see how it goes. I do intend on finishing this, and all my other fictions.

Standard Disclaimers apply. I do not own Star Trek.

* * *

Kirk wondered if what Uhura had said was true.

For the longest time, he'd had no one. And all the times when he'd thought he'd had someone, had turned out...bad. Badly. Frank. Kodos. His mother. Jesus. No.

But he'd met Pike, and then there'd been Bones. Bones, who had been like a godsend. Two loners, stuck together, because nobody had wanted to room with either one of them. (They were both older than the other cadets of their year.) Bones, who had patiently, grumpily and grudgingly become Jim's best friend.

And Pike, too. Pike who never took no for an answer. Who'd advised him, and challenged him, and accepted him. The only person to ever see something worthwhile in Jim Kirk. Pike...who's opinion of Kirk actually mattered to Jim.

There'd been no one else. No else had ever been worth letting in. But as he thought about Uhura's words, he wondered if that was still true. She'd seemed really sincere just now. And she'd supported him when he'd run onto the bridge. He hadn't been sure she would.

And there was Sulu, whose timely action had brought the ship to save him and Pike and Spock. And Chekov, who already seemed to have a rip-roaring case of hero worship. And Scotty, who shared his sandwiches.

And Spock. Spock, now there was a conundrum. Kirk was actually starting to like Spock. Spock, who had brought him to sickbay. Who had given up his bed. Who had brought Kirk dinner. Who had opened up and told Jim about his mother. Who seemed to actually like playing Kirk in chess. He was starting to feel like he could trust the Vulcan, and more than that, he was wanting to.

There had been the admiral from the chess club, who'd cared about how he looked. And that kid who'd brought him coffee. Twice.

And Old Spock, who looked at Kirk as though Kirk was Vulcan reborn.

So, maybe, just maybe, Kirk did have more than two people that cared about him. It was a heady thought.

He walked out of the room with a lighter step than he'd had in a long time.

* * *

If you liked it, please review.


	17. Chapter 17

I'm not dead. I'm working through writer's block.  
Disclaimer. Still not mine. I have not beta-ed this. I haven't even spell-checked it. If that's going to bother you, don't read it. Seriously. I was afraid that if I didn't post it, that I would lose my nerve.

* * *

For: Inconstant Logic-whose amazing review broke the writers block and inspired me to write again. Thank you.

* * *

Kirk move through his ship slowly. He thought about Uhura's words. Maybe he did have a bigger family now than he'd ever considered. He pondered the bridge crew. He wondered if he meant as much to them as they did to him.

He needed to talk to Bones.

He needed to talk to Pike.

He really needed..._something_. But he didn't know what it was. A drink, maybe. Or a hug. No. Whiskey. He needed a whiskey.

This week...it had been...huge. too much. It reminded him of the relief of Tarsus a bit. A furious, desperate rush to survive and then...waiting. While trying to seem inspiring and feeling completely useless.

He needed to see Spock. His Spock. Well, no, not his Spock. Older Spock. Shit. that was going to get confusing. He needed older Spock. He needed to know what to do.

Fuck. He wanted a coffee.

Though it was unlikely that McCoy would let him have any stimulants while his immune system was still so wonky.

He sighed.

So that was unlikely. Maybe he could get a sandwich from Scotty. Actually, come to think of it, that was a brilliant idea.

Kirk was not one to turn down a brilliant idea.

He had a million things to do today, but maybe he could start with engineering. He remembered that he'd told Spock to help Scotty during the meeting. They'd both be down there, and he could see if he could be of any use. Engineering had been one of his side interests.

Plus, Scotty might still have his bucket of sandwiches.

It turned out that Scotty did have the sandwich bucket. That was a very good thing. He seemed pleased that Kirk was so enamored of them, and passed Kirk one at random.

Ham and cheese. Not bad at all.

Kirk listened diligently to the problems Scotty was trying to fix and then picked himself up a spanner. It turned out that a great deal of the Enterprise's problems steamed from tiny cracks in her piping. Well, Kirk knew how to fix that. He'd kept his bike together for many years by knowing how to deal with small stuff. He figured he'd work down here for a bit, and then he'd go and see about how Chekov and Sulu doing with the replicator crew and then, well, he'd go and see Pike.

Pike was good at dealing with Jim's conflicted emotions.

But first things first, the Enterprise needed power. They could not afford any engine bleeds or power drains from _anywhere_. The ship was going to need every drop of energy she could get. So tiny cracks = bad. Energy meant food from the replicators, and speed from the impulse engines, and light and heat and gravity. And that meant...spanners.

He grimaced and got work.

As with the last time he'd been here, he was surprised at how quickly he fell into what he was doing and how quickly everything else fell away. He'd meant what he'd said in the meeting, situations like this were easier to deal with when you had something to do.  
A sense of purpose. A sense of usefulness.

A little while later he was jarred from his work as a steaming cup of coffee was passed in front of face.  
Excellent.

He looked along the arm that held the proffered cup into the face of Crewman Phillips, the crewman who had brought him coffee the last time he was in engineering. It was going to be another perfect cup of coffee.

Kirk smiled. "Awesome. Thank you, Mister Phillips."

Phillips smiled back. "You're welcome, Captain."

There was that word again. Captain. That perfect, amazing word. Kirk took a sip of the steaming brew. Ah. Heaven in a cup.

"You are going to spoil me, Mr. Phillips. Not every captain gets coffee this good," Kirk commented.

Phillips quirked his head. "Well, not every captain is willing to help with repairs in engineering."

Kirk nodded, blushing. He shrugged.

"Seriously, sir," Phillips continued. "You've been a great help to us. And you're a great inspiration. Not many men would do what you been doing."

He looked away. He'd always been uncomfortable with honest praise. He took another sip of coffee to avoid answering. God, it really was good. He should think about hiring Phillips to be his yeoman.

Unable to keep the compliment from his lips, he said, "This really is good coffee, crewman. Thank you."

Phillips looked held his gaze and said solemnly, "Thank you, sir."

Kirk had the strangest feeling that Philips wasn't talking about coffee anymore.  
"You're welcome."

Kirk looked at his chrono and was surprised to see that he'd been in Engineering for over two hours. It was long past time he went to see how Chekov and Sulu were doing with the replicator situation. So picked up another sandwich from Scotty and meandered up to the mess.

Chekov and Sulu were having a rapid and heated discussion about the merits of replicated verses cooked food when Kirk walked in.

"Gentlemen."

"Captain."

"Keptan, sir."

For some reason, they both looked guilty for a second. He wondered briefly what they'd been discussing before he walked in.

"How's it going, guys?" he said.

"Ve haf made adequate progress, Keptan," Chekov said.

Sulu nodded, but interjected, "-but to be honest, Sir, we really don't know that we needed to modify the replicators at all."

"No?" Kirk replied. That was news to him. He was pretty sure that he'd given orders to expand replicator output for a reason. And that reason was because he wasn't fucking sure they'd have enough food.

Chekov and Sulu must have seen something steely in his face, because they back-pedaled quickly. "That is, uh, Captain, there was enough output to deal with the influx of passengers if everyone was wiling to eat just two meals a day, then we can get back two days earlier. And seeing how two meals is still a pretty good amount of food..." Sulu trailed off at the look on Kirk's face.

Because that's how it started. _Cutting a down food a little bit. Then a little more. Then a little more. And suddenly you haven't eaten in three days, and you're carrying little ones smaller than you, and trying to deal with more than you can handle, and you've already seen more death than you can imagine, and-_

_Their gaunt faces swam before his eyes-_

Kirk forced himself to focus on Sulu's face. He was _here_. This was _now_.

Focus, Kirk.

"No." he said.

"No, Keptan?"

"No."

He wasn't doing this. They were not sacrificing food for _anything_.

Sulu took a deep breath and tried again. "Captain, we were able to modify the replicators to produce greater yields, provided that we can increase energy input to the replicators by 23%, then we estimate that we can nearly double the replicator output."

That was more like it.

"Excellent. Good work, gentlemen. Any ideas on how much that will set us back in terms of speed?"

A quick conversation with Scotty, and confirmed by Spock, showed that if the Enterprise slowed by less than four percent, they would have enough energy to double the current replicator output.

A small weight Kirk hadn't realized he was carrying lifted when he heard that information.

At least they wouldn't starve.

Kirk complimented both Chekov and Sulu on their excellent work and strolled out of the mess. He figured he should head up to sickbay to check on how Bones and Spock were doing with his miracle cure.

Plus, he could check on Pike.

When Kirk reached sickbay, neither Spock nor McCoy was immediate sight of the door, so he strolled into the alcove where Pike had been sleeping.

Kirk was pleased to see that Pike was looking better. There was color in the Captain's cheeks and lips. Color that had not been there on Kirk's last visit.

Pike's eyes were closed and his chest moved up and down rhythmically. Kirk could read and understand just enough of the readouts from the bed to see that Pike's pulse was even and that his blood pressure, while low, was acceptable.

Awesome. It had been a pretty good day so far. Kirk should have known that it wouldn't last.

As he stood looking at his mentor, he felt a presence come up beside him. "He's doing pretty well, Jim, all things considered."

"That's good to know, Bones." Kirk turned to smile at his friend. "Thanks for taking such good care of him."

"I know what he means to you, Jimmy."

Kirk looked away, but he put his hand on McCoy's shoulder and nodded. "Thanks."

For a while, both of them stared at Pike, but eventually, the doctor cleared his throat. "Uh, we gotta talk, Jim."

Uh-oh. No way in hell were those three words ever a good sign.

Kirk sighed. "Yeah, Bones."

"In private, Jim." McCoy gave him a bit of a nudge, "My office."

Kirk swallowed. No way was this going to be good. And this had been such a good day so far. God, he was feeling so tired again.

He perched awkwardly on the arm of McCoy's couch, and waited for the other shoe to drop. "What is it, Bones?"

"It's about Spock, Jim." McCoy looked more resigned then Kirk had ever seen him.

"What?" Kirk's head had started to throb. He was less than halfway through his day, and he was exhausted already.

"Well, you know how we were gonna get together to talk about the virus that's been tiring you?"

"Yeah?" Kirk wondered where this was going?

"Since it mutated in your body, Spock thought it would be logical to look through your medical records."

Kirk closed his eyes.

Oh Fuck No.

He tried frantically to calm his racing heart. This could not be happening. They'd promised him...They'd PROMISED him.

He couldn't see. Couldn't hear. Couldn't think.

"Jim. Jim. JIM!"

Kirk shook his head and forced his eyes to focus on McCoy. "Bones."

McCoy had both hands on his face, and was holding him still. "It's okay, Jim. He doesn't know. "

He didn't? How?

"He...he doesn't?" Kirk managed to stutter.

"No, Jim. He doesn't." McCoy's tone was soothing. And both of his hands were still petting Kirk's face, making soothing motions over Kirk's cheekbones. McCoy was doing his best to calm Kirk.

McCoy was the only person in the universe that Kirk had told that secret. There were others that knew of it, of course, but none that Kirk had TOLD.

Kirk took a deep breath and forced his heart to calm. To still. Spock didn't know.

"But Jim, if you want him to help me help you, then you need to tell him. You need to tell him you were on Tarsus IV."

* * *

So...the first couple paragraphs of this chapter was by far the most intimidating piece of writing that I have ever done. It's been three years since I really touched this fiction, and it's somehow gotten absurdly popular. So...trying to update it=scary. For those of you that have stuck with me. I thank you.  
Please read and review. But in the words of Thumper, if you can't say anything nice, Don't say anything at all.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer. Still not mine. Still unbeta-ed. I haven't double-checked it. If that's going to bother you, don't read it.

* * *

If anyone is actually unfamiliar with Tarsus, there is info at the bottom notes.

* * *

_Tell him you were on Tarsus IV. Tell him you were on Tarsus IV. _

The words repeated on a loop in his head.

Kirk had told exactly one person that he'd been on Tarsus IV. And only person. That had been Bones, and it had taken one entire night and an one entire bottle of Romulan Ale to do it.

He had made McCoy his personal physician. And whatever else McCoy could be, he was an _EXCELLENT_ doctor. He had lost no time in acquiring and consuming Kirk's medical records, and (just like Spock must have) he'd noticed some discrepancies in Kirk's file.

_More like, he'd noticed the great, gaping holes._

McCoy had had enough sense to wait to confront Kirk until they were both off duty and back in their dorm room. He'd brought the Romulan Ale for Jim, and a bottle of bourbon for himself. McCoy had admitted later that he'd brought two bottles because he knew that Jim might not be in a sharing mood after McCoy forced him into this conversation.

They drank together, starting the conversation slowly. It was not the kind of thing you just jumped into. McCoy held him as he talked, explaining his time on the doomed colony. Their starvation. His brother's death. The rebellion. His small band of kids. The lifelong illnesses that came from eating poisoned grain. Bones had cried. Even talking about it made Kirk sick, and he rounded out the night vomiting the ale violently into the head. McCoy, loathe to leave him alone, had pillowed his jacket on his lap, and pulled Kirk's head down to rest upon McCoy's legs.

They had _somehow_ come through the night still friends. He'd been skittish and wary around Bones for several weeks afterward. But McCoy hadn't treated him any differently-except that after that night, McCoy allowed no other doctor to treat Kirk.

But that suited Kirk just fine. He hated doctors.

All except McCoy.

So, in it's own way, it had worked out.

Pike knew about it, too. But Kirk hadn't told him. Pike had known about it because he'd seen the flag in Kirk's records. Kirk was one of only nine survivors who had seen Kodos. Who had heard him give the order for the colonist's execution. As such, Kirk was considered a protected witness.

Almost no one was allowed to know that information. However, the flag in Kirk's file merely read that he was a survivor of Tarsus. The ability to even _see_ that the flag _existed_ was classified above most levels.

Pike had only been able to see it because he was Kirk's advisor.

Frankly, if Kirk had been concerned about Pike getting that information, he was more than capable of hacking the Federation Database to hide the information. But after some thought, he decided it might be better if Pike knew. So Kirk let it stay.

He did, however, add an alert to his own comm, to let him know when Pike read it.

Pike read it, and Kirk waited with trepidation to be called into his mentor's office. To be asked to talk about his past, or his feelings. But Pike never asked.

He never pushed.

Well, not about that anyway.

Pike pushed about nearly everything else.

Kirk smiled as he thought of Pike's "Sunday Advisee Dinners", and remembered the relentless badgering of the older man when Kirk had failed to show up the first time.

He'd been shocked to find that he was Pike's only advisee. And the only invite for dinner. But it turned out that Pike could cook, and Kirk wasn't about to turn down free meal.

Pike was especially good at cooking southwest style dishes.

Just thinking of it now made Kirk's stomach grumble. He wondered how long it had been since he'd eaten.

Kirk shook himself out of the past for the second time that day.

He turned left out of McCoy's office and went into the area where Captain Pike was laying. Kirk kept his steps soft in case Pike was still asleep.

As it turned out, Pike was awake.

He looked a tired, though, as he blinked blearily up at Kirk. "Hey, kid."  
Kirk smiled. "Captain."

Pike looked him up and down. "You look like shit, Kirk."

"Thanks." Kirk laughed wryly. "Because you look so good yourself, sir."

With most officers, Kirk's comments would have been considered insubordination. But Pike was different. Pike had always been different.

Pike had been the first authority figure that Kirk had ever trusted. Come to think of it, Pike was the only authority figure that Kirk trusted.

"You gonna give me a report, Kirk, or stand there day-dreaming?"

Kirk shook himself, and wondered how many times today he'd gotten lost in his own head.

Damn, but he was _tired_.

_No_.

He was _exhausted_.

"Sorry, Captain." He straightened his shoulders and came to attention.

"At ease, Kirk." Pike's tone was fond, amused and perhaps just a bit exasperated. "Just didn't want you drifting off on me."

"No, sir." Kirk smiled.

He proceeded to report everything that had happened, just as had with the collection of admirals he'd spoken to...shit, how many days ago had that been?

He couldn't remember.

As before, though, he was vague about the identity of the hermit traveler that had helped him escape Delta Vega.

He needed to talk to ..other Spock before he started spreading that story around.

Pike absorbed the information stoically, interrupting only periodically to ask questions. Kirk told him everything right up to meeting Sulu and Chekov in the mess an hour previous.

When he was finished, Kirk returned again to attention and waiting for the dressing down that was sure to follow.

Pike sighed.

"Jim, stop bracing yourself."

Kirk dared to open his eyes and look at his adviser. "Sir?"

"You look like you're bracing for execution, kid."

"Kinda feels like it, Captain."

Pike smiled then. "Relax, Jim."

Kirk spread his feet and returned his hands behind his back.

"I'm not saying you did everything right, but it sounds like you did the best you could, and that's all that I can ask of you."

Kirk felt his jaw in disbelief.

"I'm not saying there won't be any consequences, but you did save Earth, Jim, and that counts for something." Pike continued.

Kirk kinda hoped it counted for a lot. He really liked this ship.

He swallowed. "Um, thank you, sir."

Pike nodded.

They were quiet for a few minutes, and then Pike reached out a hand.

Kirk stepped forward to take it in both of his.

"I'm proud of you, son."

Kirk stilled.

He could not, for the life of him, remember ever hearing someone say those words to him.

He swallowed past the lump that was forming in his throat, and found himself unable to meet Pike's eyes.

Not wanting to allow the slowly forming tears to spill, Kirk closed his eyes and looked away.

Pike used the hold he had on Kirk's hands to pull him closer and give him kind of a one-handed hug, patting Kirk's back.

Kirk did not return the embrace, but neither did he move away.

He was too overwhelmed.

He wondered if this might be what it felt like to have a father.

Pike held him for a few seconds longer, and then gently pushed him upright. "You okay, Jim?"

Kirk stubbornly refused to wipe his eyes. "Yes, captain."

"Good. Now scram. Let an old man rest."

Kirk smiled. "Yessir."

He turned on his heel and walked out of sickbay. Right into Spock.

Hell of a day.

It was like a script from a bad movie.

Spock steadied him and prevented him from falling on his ass. Nice of him.

"Mister Spock."

"I have been endeavoring to locate you, Captain," Spock said.

"It seems that you have found me." Kirk smiled.

"I was wondering if you would care to partake in a meal, captain." Spock said.

Kirk noticed the way Spock didn't ask it as a question. It was a statement. Spock had been wondering, and therefore it was a statement.

Almost despite himself, he heard himself answering. "Sure. I could eat."

Kirk was hungry, had been since before his conversation with Pike, but he wasn't sure that he was ready for the conversation that would inevitably follow.

Then again, he wasn't sure he would _EVER_ be ready for that conversation.

As before, he followed Spock to the officers' mess. This time, no one exploded into applause, for which Kirk was extremely grateful, though Kirk did notice that many of the officers came to attention as Kirk walked by.

He dropped his head, embarrassed.

He didn't deserve this crew.

If Spock noticed his embarrassment, Spock chose not to comment on it.

They made their way to the replicators, and placed their orders. Spock chose a bowl of steamed mixed vegetables and a fruit salad.

Kirk really wanted comfort food. He ordered a chicken sandwich and a coffee. And a bowl of Plomeek soup.

Spock raised his eyebrows at the soup when Kirk sat down.

"Bones used to make me eat it at the Academy, when I wasn't feeling well. Nutritious. Easy on the stomach." Kirk explained.

_Pretty good after a hangover_, went unsaid.

"I was simply curious, Captain. Most humans find the flavors of the Plomeek too subtle for enjoyment."

Kirk translated that in his head. "They think it's too bland?"

"Affirmative."

"Huh." Kirk said. "Well, I've always liked it."

But it was more than that, now. It felt like... paying _homage_ to Vulcan. By eating replicated soup of a plant that would never grow again. Kirk bit his lips and closed his eyes. If only he'd been _faster_.

Spock raised his eyebrows again. "You are unique, captain."

Kirk smiled at Spock. "You would not be the first to say so, Mister Spock."

"Indeed?" Spock did not look astonished. Surprisingly.

"No." Kirk smiled down at his soup. It was true that it was ...bland. But it was something Kirk had grown to appreciate.

The two of them ate mostly in silence. Kirk finished his soup and sandwich and then moved onto his coffee.

_Bleh_. Dishwater. He had to make an effort not to spit it out back into its cup. If Spock weren't sitting in front of him, he might have.

It definitely wasn't the coffee that Phillips had been bringing him. Too bad. Maybe he'd page the crewman to see where they kept the good coffee.

He smiled thinking of the absurdity of it.

Then again, he'd probably need a cup if he was going to get through the conversation that he knew Spock wanted to have.

Well, no use putting it off longer. Spock had long since finished his own food. Kirk stood.

"Well, come on, Spock. I think we need to talk."

Spock nodded and stood. "Indeed, Captain."

They made their way slowly to Spock's quarters, and Kirk noticed that the Vulcan still had the temperature set to Earth normal.

For the second time that day, Kirk had to swallow past the lump in his throat. He awkwardly cleared his throat.

There was no use in drawing this out. Might as well just dive in.

"So, um. Doctor McCoy tells me that you wanted to examine my medical history." he said.

"That is affirmative, Captain. We are of the opinion that it would be useful in helping to determine why this virus has become so debilitating to your immune system."

Kirk nodded and sighed. "Okay...okay."

He did not ask if Spock had already seen his records. Even if Spock had, he would not have seen the uncensored version.

Kirk weighed the pros and cons.

He didn't know Spock. Not really. One fantastic mission did not change that. And Kirk wasn't sure he wanted to trust anyone with this kind of information.

But then, he thought of the other Spock. The _home_, and the _longing_, and the _family_ that existed between them in the other universe.

Kirk _wanted_ that.

As he had never wanted _anything_.

_He wanted that future_.

And this... could mean the start.

Trust inspired friendship, right?

With a lump in his throat, and a heavy weight on his chest, Kirk walked to Spock's computer and opened his uncensored file. It would show Spock _EVERYTHING_.

It was the biggest leap of faith he'd ever made in his life. And Kirk liked to leap without looking. So that was saying something.

Then he walked back to Spock's bed, and put his head in his hands.

"Go ahead, Mister Spock. Knock yourself out."

* * *

Author's Note. In _TOS_, Kirk was on the colony planet Tarsus IV. The colony experienced a food shortage due to a virus that infected all the planets crops. The planet's leader, Governor Kodos, determined that if half the colony were executed, the other half might be able to survive until help arrived. Kodos used eugenics to determine which of the colonists would live and which would die. Kirk was one of only nine survivors to witness the massacre and to see the face of Kodos.

Edit: The _TOS_ episode that deals with Tarsus is _Conscience of the King_. It's probably my favorite episode. I'm not going to spoil it, so go check it out if you are interested.

* * *

Author's Note here. I still feel intimidated posting updates on this story. It's had over 10,000 viewings in the past week, and the last chapter had 200 reviews. I can't believe how popular it is. I'm flattered that you like it so much. Please accept my gratitude. That having been said-It's scary posting this. If you would like to review, because you liked the story, then I'd love to read it. But if you have something negative to say, keep it to yourself. I'm not looking for constructive criticism right now. I'm looking to keep a promise to complete this fiction, and I find negativity distracting.

More soon.


	19. Chapter 19

I'm working through writer's block.  
Disclaimer. Still not mine. Still not beta-ed. There are going to be small errors. If that's going to bother you, don't read it. I'm not looking for editing suggestions or constructive criticism. I'm just trying to get back in the habit of writing.

This chapter's a bit short, as it was crazy hard to write. Trauma isn't an easy thing to discuss, and I didn't want it to be OoC. Neither of these men are going be discussing their _emotions_ in depth. They just met, and it's not really something either of them would do.

* * *

Kirk didn't have the courage to watch Spock read. He simply put his head in his hands and breathed.

He knew what Spock was seeing. His record wasn't pretty.

Tarsus was the biggest issue, but it wasn't the only issue. There was Frank, and Sam, his mother, and goddammit, what had he been thinking?

Kirk sighed.

Damn.

He was almost glad he hadn't allowed himself to think this through. There was no getting out of it now.

How long had it been? Why wasn't Spock done yet? Had it been minutes? Seconds? Hours?

It already felt like forever.

He wished Spock would read faster.

His heart was pounding.  
He was doing his level best not to hyperventilate.

It was difficult.

Goddammit. He was about to have a panic attack.

"Breathe, Captain."

Kirk looked up to find Spock at his side, as he hadn't even heard the Vulcan approach. He was going to get that man a bell for around his neck. Kirk took several deep breaths and then looked his first officer full in the face. He noticed that Spock had made no attempt to touch him.

Unusual.

Most humans would.

But then Spock wasn't human.

"It's Jim," Kirk said. "Jim." They weren't on the bridge, and he wasn't telling his first officer. He was telling his friend. At least, he hoped he was.

"Any questions, Mister Spock?" he asked.

Spock gazed back at him with an even expression. His face gave nothing away.

Kirk put his head in his hands again. He didn't need to see this coming.

"Tarsus is the planet you visited when you were fourteen, the place where you gained your proficiency in rock climbing."

Spock did not phrase it as a question. Kirk was surprised by Spock's opening, of all the things Spock could have opened with, this one was the most ...benign. It allowed Kirk to ease into the subject gently. That showed...concern. Kirk appreciated it.

"Yes, Mister Spock." Kirk answered, but did not look up, though he saw Spock nod at the corner of his vision. "When I was young, I...I didn't get along... My mom was always in space." Kirk didn't know how to explain this. He didn't hate his mother. But he didn't love her either. He hadn't actually seen her in years.

"She was just never around. She thought my brother Sam and I needed some company, I guess, so she married this guy...and he just...hated me. Sam, too. Well, Sam just took off one day. Never saw him again. And Frank he just got worse. And I picked at him, and he picked at me, and I couldn't stand it. I drove his car off a cliff, and he beat me near to death. Mom sent me out to Tarsus after that. Lived with her sister."

Spock was standing across the room, at an angle to Kirk. His face was completely unreadable.  
Damn Vulcans were unflappable, Kirk thought.

But then Kirk thought over the last few days. The bridge, the planet, the strange sympathy he'd seen in his first officer.

Vulcans were anything but emotionless. They just hid it better.

Kirk remembered the bruises on his neck. His displaced trachea. Yeah, they definitely hid it better.

The Vulcan was silent, and so Kirk just went on. "It was nice there at first. They actually kinda liked me. My aunt was nice, and a good cook. And the colony was small, so I was more Mary's nephew than I was George Kirk's son. And they had a dog, and it was...good." he allowed himself to trail off, smiling at the memory, but then his face hardened, and he said, " At least until everything went to shit."

He closed his mouth quickly not sure what else he might have meant to say.  
Fuck.

There was a reason he didn't talk about this shit.

It was too damn hard.

Nothing good ever came of it.

Kirk and Spock waited in silence for a while. Kirk appreciated that. The Vulcan wasn't pushing.

"Do you believe that Kodos is dead, Captain?"

That question caught him enough by surprise that Kirk let the "captain" slide this time. "I don't know, Mister Spock. His body was found in a warehouse, burned beyond recognition. So I don't know. Even Starfleet couldn't completely confirm that it was him." Kirk could never decide how he felt about this. Sometimes rage. Sometimes relief. But either way, he kinda wished he actually _Knew_ what had happened.

Spock nodded. "I had surmised as much. I was merely curious as to your opinion."

"Why does it matter, Spock? He'd be old now, probably with no friends and no resources." Kirk said.

"If he is alive, he may at some point become a threat to your physical safety. You are one of only nine survivors to known to have observed the massacre and to witness Governor Kodos give the execution order."

And didn't he wish he hadn't been. So many days he'd wished that he'd just died instead. It was too much.

Too much.

But it was cool that Spock cared enough about him to ask.

"Yes." Kirk answered quietly. He watched the faces swim again before his eyes.

It had been such a long time ago.

Gods, he was tired.

He let his head sink further into his hands. He so did not want to be talking about this.

Not too anyone.

"Anything other questions, Mr. Spock?"

"In 2246, the Tarsus Academy Xenobotany Club submitted a report to the Federation Agricultural Commission claiming to have developed a strand of grain called Tritocaline, which would be largely resistant to most blights, diseases and droughts. Kirk, J was the lead author."

This time Kirk did look up. He had no idea where Spock could have even heard that.

"How do you know that?" That report wasn't listed on anything, not any report connected with the massacre.

"My father was on the Agricultural Commission at that time. He found the report most fascinating. He discussed it with me at length at the time."

"Oh." Kirk said, his throat rather dry. He'd never thought that anyone would actually read that.

Especially not Spock.

"It was my father's belief at the time that the fungus which caused the famine was designed deliberately to attack the weaknesses in the grain of the colony."

Kirk looked down again. He cleared his throat. "Um, yeah. That's what Starfleet said later."

"He furthered believed that the Tritocaline of the student report might well have been resistant to that virus."

Kirk nodded. He asked himself that almost every day. If only he'd been faster at thinking of it.

Vulcan wasn't the first time he'd had a good idea too late.

He sighed and cast around for something, anything to move the subject on.

"Anything else?" It wasn't the most polite thing he could have said, but Kirk was over being polite at this point.

Spock moved rather quickly on to questions of the exact structure of the fungus that had attacked the grain. Kirk hopped off the bed and called it up on the computer screen.

Spock thanked him and sat at the small desk. Kirk wondered why Spock wanted to see it so badly. Kirk had never thought it was anything special.

Spock turned back to him for a moment, and then he spoke. "Do you feel that your frequent allergic reactions have more in common with the circumstances of your birth , or are they a result of your time on Tarsus IV?"

Huh. That was a good question, actually.

Kirk didn't know.

His immune system had always been fucked up. But then, everything had been worse after Tarsus.

Everything.

He told Spock as much.

The Vulcan merely nodded. "Indeed, captain."

A headache was creeping up around his eyes now. God, he just wanted to stop talking. But come to think of it, they kinda had. Stopped talking that is.

It hadn't been as hard as Kirk had thought it would be.

That was one plus. Spock was kinda easy to talk to.

Kirk's head was heavy and so were his eyes. So was everything.

He was doing okay.

And he was safe. Here. Now.

And he was warm and sitting on Spock's bed. And he didn't notice when he fell asleep.

* * *

So, for my job, I work with traumatized and rebellious kids. That influenced this. Spock's doing the best possible thing by staying quiet and by just letting Kirk talk. Most trauma survivors don't want advice. They don't need their problems solved. They need someone to care, and to listen. That's all. If you start a trauma conversation, begin at the surface level, work down a bit, and then bring the mood/atmosphere back up before you disengage. If you are interested in reading about it more Cornell University publishes some great stuff on Therapeutic Crisis Intervention.


End file.
